


The Fall of Camelot

by afictionado



Category: The OC
Genre: F/M, Ryan/Kirsten, Unconventional Relationship, rysten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afictionado/pseuds/afictionado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 3 AU. When Sandy's work at the Newport Group takes top priority, the kingdom of the Cohens begins to fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was scrambling. She knew her voice was borderline shrill, but she was out of ideas and she was surprised to find herself scared beyond belief that he might just be walking out of her life for good.

*****

"What are you doing?" she demanded to know, heart bumping into her throat at the sight to greet her the moment she entered the pool house.

"Packing my things," he responded distantly, keeping his eyes from hers. He threw some of his belongings into a duffel bag; the very same duffel bag he walked into her life with.

"Why?"

His chuckle was without mirth, eyes sliding closed for a moment and voice soft as he told her, "Come on Kirsten, you know why. Don't do this."

"I should be saying the same thing to you, Ryan! _Don't do this_." She folded her arms across her chest, stance confrontational mostly out of fear. Was this actually happening?

"I have to. There's no way I can stay after..." He dipped his chin, "after what happened."

"This can work itself out!" She was scrambling. She knew her voice was borderline shrill, but she was out of ideas and she was surprised to find herself scared beyond belief that he might just be walking out of her life for good.

"No it can't! There is no way, after what I said, that we can just pretend like it never happened. You can't suddenly un-know something that you now know, or pretend it doesn't exist. It doesn't work like that."

She took a breath; he had a point. But she wasn't about to let him walk away from her. "We can fix this."

"I _am_ fixing this. I'm leaving." He slung the bag over his shoulder and started for the door.

Her body twisted to follow him as he brushed past her, though she remained cemented in place. "Ryan, please... think about what you're doing." Her feet carried her toward him; she leaned on the door frame as he stood straddling the threshold -- one foot in, one foot out.

"I already have." He turned to face her in the doorway, an apologetic frown on his lips. "I'm sorry, I just..." He looked down, reaching for her hand but stopping just millimeters away as if thinking twice, drawing it back to his side. He met her eyes again. "I think this will be best for everybody."

Then he left without another word, leaving Kirsten standing there blinking back tears as she whispered to herself, "Not for me."

 

*****

Earlier that year was when things began to crumble. And Kirsten had known, after her return from Suriak, that it would take awhile for her and Sandy to get on an even keel; to regain their connection. But just at the time she was reaching out to re-establish that connection, Sandy was throwing himself further and further into his work.

In retrospect, she knew she never should have pressured him into taking the reins at the Newport Group. She saw now from the outside that that place did nothing but devour the life of its every employee. It had happened to her father... then to her. Sandy Cohen was just the latest victim.

She remembered the night she first noticed it.

**

_"Something smells good in here!" Ryan greeted as he came in through the patio. "Hope that doesn't mean you're the one doing the cooking," and he threw her a wry smirk while snatching a cherry tomato off the bowl on the island._

_Kirsten glared facetiously. "You're very funny." Then she turned back to her task. "Actually, I am cooking."_

_Ryan stopped in his tracks. "Do Sandy and Seth know? Are they out picking up pizza, is that why they're not here?"_

_She rolled her eyes. "Seth is upstairs and Sandy is on his way home from work."_

_"Mind if I take a peek at what you have there?"_

_She quirked an eyebrow. "Health inspection?"_

_He shrugged. "Maybe."_

_She chuckled and moved aside, pulling the lid off the sauté pan. "It's just breaded chicken with lemon and capers. No hazardous materials."_

_"Wow." He leaned back. "I'm impressed."_

_She grinned. "Thank you!" Then she shoved at his waist gently, shooing him to the other end of the island. "I just need you to make the salad and we should be good to go."_

_Seth bounded down the stairs, then, clapping his hands together eagerly. "Alright! Dinner disaster, let's do this."_

_While Ryan chuckled, throwing his friend a grin, Kirsten whipped her hand towel at him. "Oh hush, I promise it'll be good. We're just waiting on your father, so take a seat."_

_"Gotcha."_

_Kirsten watched as Ryan took the finished salad over to the table, placing it in the middle before pulling out his usual chair, next to Seth. She turned back to the stove, then, turning the burner off just as her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket._

_Spotting the number on the call screen, she flipped it open to greet her husband. "You are going to be so proud of me, Sandy. I cooked, and nothing started on fire."_

_"Hey, that's great, hun." Though his voice betrayed the congratulatory remark._

_She frowned. "What's going on? You sound kinda... stressed."_

_"I am. I'm sorry, honey, but I completely forgot I had a meeting with the board of directors tonight to go over plans for development, and Matt can't cover for me."_

_Of course he couldn't. "Okay, well... do you want me to bring dinner to the office for you?"_

_"No that's okay, I think those big-wigs normally do the whole catered meeting thing. I'll be alright."_

_Disappointment weighed in her gut, though she kept it from her tone. "Okay! Well, I guess I'll see you when you get home."_

_Sandy had said a quick goodbye and then the line went dead. Quietly, slowly, she flipped her phone closed and slipped it back into her pocket, staring at the pan of freshly-cooked food... now a sudden waste._

_"That Dad?" asked Seth._

_Kirsten nodded, murmuring a soft, "Mm-hmm," that they likely couldn't hear from across the room. Carefully, she distributed a chicken breast onto only 3 plates, leaving the fourth in the pan. After sprinkling a few capers and a bit of their juices onto each plate, she brought them to the table and sat down, smiling tightly at Seth and avoiding gaze with Ryan._

_"Let's eat, huh?"_

_"Well what about Dad?"_

_"Just eat, Seth," Ryan snipped quietly, and Kirsten could sense he already knew what was going on. He always did._

_"I'm sensing some tension, here." Seth narrowed his eyes, gesturing around the table._

_Gripping her fork and knife tightly in each hand, attempting to keep her voice level, Kirsten looked up and told him shortly, "Your father's not coming, he got held up at work."_

_"Oh." Seth looked at his plate briefly, pressing his lips together. Not a beat had gone by before he looked up and asked, "So does this mean I can go to Summer's?"_

_Ryan's fork clattered loudly to his plate as he gaped at his friend with an expression of, 'Really?'_

_Kirsten nodded, not in the mood to argue or deal with any more of Seth's questions. "Fine, Seth. That's fine."_

_The boy took his leave quickly, never one to deal well with tension, and Kirsten stared at her plate even after she'd heard the front door close in her son's wake._

_Ryan was looking at her; she could tell, she always could... but she refused to meet his gaze._

_"How many nights in a row now?" he asked quietly, so as not to rile her._

_"Three," she replied, just as soft, and lifted her eyes to his._

_His expression immediately fell to one of empathy and she shook it away instinctively. "Y'know what? You must have somewhere else you need to be, too. I'll just, um... I'll just clean this stuff up."_

_When she stood, reaching for his plate, he seized her hand, raising his eyes to hers once more. "I'm not going anywhere."_

_The four words were simple -- clear cut but potent at the same time. They stared at each other a moment, his hand holding hers supportively. She swallowed hard. "You're not?"_

_He shook his head and attempted a smile. "No place I'd rather be."_

_So despite her sadness, Kirsten allowed herself to give Ryan a soft smile; and she sat down at the table still gripping his hand. After a moment she squeezed it and then released him, the two of them eating dinner in silence._

_And though her heart was heavy, with concern not only for her marriage but for her husband, the presence of her dinner companion gave her some much-needed solace._

**

Kirsten idly considered whether or not that was the first moment she knew her marriage was on its last legs. It was so hard to tell; especially now, standing alone in the middle of the pool house with her entire life tumbling down around her. Ultimately, that wasn’t the moment. It was just when she first saw the Newport Group doing its usual soul sucking.

And that was still early in the fall. Her return from Suriak had been late August. The Newport Group started to grab Sandy by the neck in September. And now in April, her marriage was in a state of utter demolition.

She had thought things were good near the end of fall. Or perhaps it was her imagination.

**

_”How come we’re doing a theme costume this year? This should be outlawed. No household should be held to a rigid theme like this.”_

_Kirsten smirked. “You don’t like your costume?” though she knew full-well he wouldn’t like it._

_Seth jingled the bells on his jester hat. “A royal court jester?” He tilted his head. “Come on, Mom.”_

_Ryan chuckled, adjusting his fake suit of armor. “Well you_ are _the comic relief around here, Seth,” he pointed out._

_“Still. This has got to be some form of child abuse.”_

_Kirsten finished examining her costume in the mirror -- a simple, green medieval silk gown, long and flowing with gold piping, and a crown atop her head. “Well I don’t mind my costume.”_

_“Of course you don’t,” her son balked, “Because you get to be the queen!”_

_She and Ryan exchanged mirror-image raised-brow looks, each of them then glancing to Seth. Ryan took the lead, asking slowly, “Do..._ you _want to be the queen, Seth?”_

_He glared. “No. But I would like a position higher in the royal court. I mean, come on dude. You get to be the knight in shining armor! Why can’t I be the... the... royal ninja?”_

_Kirsten rolled her eyes. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”_

_Seth huffed and practically stomped out to the car, his hat and shoes jingling the entire way. She and Ryan laughed at his retreat before turning to each other. “You don’t think he’s really upset, do you?”_

_Ryan made a face, dismissing the thought with a shake of his head. “Nah. He just knows Summer will give him crap about his costume.”_

_“Ah.”_

_He quirked a brow at her then and dropped to one knee in a gallant bow, kissing her hand. “May I have the honor of escorting you to the car, my queen?”_

_Kirsten smiled. “Of course you may, Sir Ryan of Atwood.”_

_He laughed, holding out his arm for her to take while she grasped her long gown with her other hand, the two of them heading for the car._

_Sandy had met them there, decked out in his king costume, his voice booming over the crowd of party-goers as he spotted them. “Ah! My lady Kirsten doth appear! And at her hand, my first and most gallant knight, Sir Ryan of Atwood!”_

_“Oh boy,” Ryan muttered under his breath, and Kirsten giggled. “He is way too into Halloween this year.”_

_“Sandy,” she murmured once they reached him, stealing a kiss from her husband. “Glad you were able to get out of work.” For once, she added silently._

_“Hey, I wouldn’t miss this! It’s the closest we get to being royalty.”_

_“So you’re the royal Cohens?” Ryan asked, grabbing a nearby glass of punch._

_“Actually, I was going for a Camelot kind of theme when I came up with this.”_

_Kirsten smiled, hanging on her husband’s arm now. “So you’re Arthur and I’m Guinevere?”_

_“Mm-hmm.” Sandy sipped at his glass of wine._

_“Guess that makes me Lancelot,” Ryan commented, and excused himself when he spotted Summer and Seth beckoning his attention._

_Kirsten smiled in his wake, her brain glimpsing over the small portion Ryan missed about Lancelot’s infatuation with Guinevere, but let it go. He probably wasn’t familiar with the tale. Instead, she focused on finally having time with her husband._

**

Yes, that had been one of the good times, the Halloween party on the pier. Sandy had been in fine form that evening, quite affectionate and attentive. So why did she remember sitting by herself looking out at the ocean?

Ah, yes. She had forgotten about Matt’s sudden interjection later that evening.

**

_“Sandy, there you are. I’ve been trying to call you.” Matt rushed over to them, cell phone in hand._

_Sandy gripped her hand as they stood to acknowledge him. “Yeah, sorry, I’ve had it turned off. I’m out with my wife tonight. And my son’s around here somewhere...” He glanced around the crowd._

_“Look, I wouldn’t bug you unless it was important,” Matt explained, and Kirsten had to try with all of her might not to roll her eyes._

_“What’s going on?”_

_“They’re trying to low-ball us. The hospital guys.”_

_“What?” Sandy’s expression changed in an instant. “No. No, that’s ridiculous. We agreed on--”_

_“I know what we agreed on, but they wanna change it.”_

_Sandy huffed. “How much time do we have?”_

_“Not much. They wanna draft up a new proposal right now.”_

_“I gotta talk to them.” He turned to her, and Kirsten knew what was coming. She knew as soon as she saw Matt making his way through the crowd._

_So an hour later with the party winding down, Kirsten took a seat on one of the benches at the end of the pier, overlooking the water with her crown occupying the seat beside her. The sounds from the party were far behind her, several yards, as she listened to the sound of the waves, along with a distant metallic clanking._

_“Hey,” the voice startled her and she looked up, half-wondering why she hadn’t recognized the noise as Ryan’s armor._

_“Hey,” she breathed, relieved at seeing him standing beside her suddenly, before turning to look at the water once more._

_His armor shifted and soon he was on a knee beside her, bracing himself on the bench. She eyed his position and he smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “Can’t exactly sit down in this stuff.”_

_“Oh.”_

_She felt his gaze on her even when she turned to look at the sea again, his ability to read her both a comfort and a concern. “You wanna talk about it?”_

_She shook her head. “No.”_

_“You want me to leave you alone?”_

_“No.” With a heavy sigh, Kirsten turned to face him, searching the eyes already busy searching hers back and forth._

_Ryan’s answering smile was slight, encouraging, and his voice was soft. “Then what do you want?”_

_Another sigh left her lips, shoulders slumping slightly. “I wanna go home, I guess.”_

_He nodded, “Okay,” and pressed a hand into the bench, pushing himself up. “Then we’ll head home.”_

_Kirsten took the proffered hand gently, allowing him to help her up. Still gripping her hand, he reached down momentarily and picked up her crown from where it lay on the bench, gently placing it atop her head. Then he dropped her hand only to hold out his arm, giving her a goofy smile. “Guinevere?”_

_She chuckled and took his arm, letting him lead her to the car as she murmured with a voice unheard above the crashing waves, “Lancelot.”_

 

TBC


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To his credit, Ryan never did make any sort of advance. But to say nothing had ever happened was perhaps a slight bending of the truth.

*****

“Is he gone?” Seth barged into the pool house as Kirsten came out of her reverie.

“Yes.”

He nodded, “Good,” and looked around as if trying to assure himself that Ryan was, in fact, gone.

She sighed. “Look, Seth, I know you’re upset...”

“Well why shouldn’t I be? I can’t even believe he-he... went there, Mom! It’s so wrong.”

She closed her eyes. “I know that it’s complicated--”

“Understatement of the century,” he huffed, folding his arms and plopping down in one of the rattan chairs, his lanky legs stretched out in front of him. “You’re not the least bit creeped out by this?”

“It’s unusual.”

Seth raised his eyebrows at that. “Unusual? That’s it? The word ‘incest’ ring a bell to anyone else around here?”

“Ryan’s not my son,” she felt the need to remind him. There was no blood tying the two of them together, no shared genetic material. Not to mention, with Ryan being eighteen now, there were no legal ties binding them either.

“So that makes it okay, then.”

Kirsten closed her eyes, wishing she was alone. Her thoughts were tumultuous enough; she didn’t need Seth haranguing her and tripping her up. “I never said that.”

“Did you know how he felt before this?”

She shook her head. “I found out this morning.”

“So there was never any indication of it that you picked up on before this?”

Kirsten paused, suddenly uncertain of how to answer her son. _Did_ she know about Ryan’s feelings before he verbalized them?

**

_”’Tis the season to be Jewish, fa la-la-la-la, la-la la la,” Seth sang, hanging ornaments on the freshly-cut tree._

_Kirsten smirked. “Interesting lyrics this year, sweetie,” she teased, and Ryan grinned at her from the mantle, where he was stringing garland._

_“Been running a little dry on fresh new songs to spin into Chrismukkah carols,” her son explained._

_They all glanced up as a new voice trailed back into the room, namely Sandy’s. “Well they’re just gonna have to work with us here. I know it’s the holidays, but it’s extremely important that we close this deal.”_

_Kirsten watched as her husband leaned down to grab his briefcase, not throwing so much as a glance in their direction before opening the front door._

_“Yeah, I’m on my way out now. Can you please schedule a conference call with them for,” he glanced at his watch, “a half-hour from now?” He started out the door. “Yeah, I’m...”_

_The door closed in his wake, his voice trailing off as he headed for the car. Kirsten threw up her hands in a gesture of ‘What the...’ while Ryan and Seth looked at one another. Sighing, Kirsten sat down hard on the coffee table, staring down at the platinum Star of David ornament in her hands, half-wanting to chuck it into the fireplace._

_She looked up at Ryan, who seemed to understand the look on her face without a word. He turned to Seth. “Hey, I think we’re missing a couple boxes of ornaments. And the tree-topper.”_

_Seth glanced around, frowning. “You are absolutely right, my friend.” Then he glanced to his mother. “They still downstairs?”_

_Kirsten nodded. “Yes.” And as he headed off, she called after him, “Thanks, sweetie!” Then she turned to the only companion left in the room, her eyes showing their gratitude. “Thank you.”_

_Ryan nodded, crouching beside her. "Y’alright?”_

_She sighed once more. “I dunno. It just...” She threw a glance toward the front door, as if Sandy were about to walk through it again. Then she turned back to Ryan. “It just seems like it never stops.”_

_He smiled sympathetically. “Well... you’ve still got us.”_

_She chuckled, somewhat mirthlessly. “Yeah, when Seth’s not spending his every waking moment with Summer or Captain Oats, or--”_

_“Well you’ve still got me,” he interjected with a soft smile, patting her knee. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”_

_Kirsten smiled, touched by his loyalty, and for a moment they just looked at one another. She attempted to discern the look in his eyes -- it was soft, almost serene. She’d been seeing it on him more and more since she’d been home from Suriak._

_As if realizing he was staring, Ryan cleared his throat and ducked his gaze, rising to his feet and walking to the tree. “Since you could use a little cheering up... here.”_

_He returned to her with a slim, wrapped package he’d retrieved from under the tree. She smirked. “Ryan...”_

_“I know it’s early, but I want you to have it.”_

_Curiosity having gotten the better of her, she tore open the package to find a framed picture of the two of them -- it had obviously been taken at the Halloween party on the pier just two months prior, seemingly from their entrance. The two of them were arm-in-arm, her in her deep green gown and golden crown, and Ryan in his suit of armor. She smiled up at him, and he shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face._

_“It’s just a little something for a queen, from her knight.”_

_“Wow. This is wonderful, Ryan, I don’t know what to say.” She rose to her feet, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling with eyes closed. She felt him hesitate a moment before he held her in return, rubbing her back gently. “Thank you.”_

_His smile was evident in his voice as he replied softly, “You’re welcome,” and pulled back._

_Her eyes searched his another moment, her mouth opening to ask him a question -- what, she wasn’t sure; and it was soon forgotten as a crash from the basement startled them._

_“Seth?” she called._

_“Uhh... quick question!” her son called back. “How important is this box marked ‘fine china’?”_

_Kirsten glanced to Ryan in alarm and he patted her shoulders, chuckling, “I got it,” before he headed for the basement to help his friend._

_She watched him go for a moment, hoping the damage to their fine china wasn’t too severe, as she turned back to Ryan’s gift. She smiled at the ornate carvings on the frame, turning it over in her hand. That was when she found the engraving on the back, in the form of a poem._

__“Then in the boyhood of the year,  
Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere  
Rode thro’ the coverts of the deer  
With blissful treble ringing clear.” __

_She gasped, recognizing the verse immediately and thinking back to his comment that night about being her Lancelot; how she’d dismissed the remark at the time and chalked it up to his unfamiliarity with the tale. Now it seemed Ryan knew the story even when he made the reference._

_He had known all along that Lancelot had been infatuated with Guinevere; so what did the gift mean? It was just a photo, certainly. Just a lovely framed photograph from a Halloween party. But paired with the verse from Tennyson’s poem about the legendary lovers, Kirsten wasn’t sure what to make of it._

**

“Mom.”

“What?”

Seth raised his eyebrows at her, shaking his head slightly. “Did you have any idea what was going on before this morning?”

“No,” she lied, shaking her head. “No, I really didn’t.”

He huffed, lips pressed tightly together as he shook his ducked head, admitting softly, “I hate to say it, but I kinda saw this coming.”

That got Kirsten’s attention. She raised her eyes to her son, watching him watch the floor. “What?”

“Ryan. I kinda saw it coming a mile away, and just... hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno, he just...” Seth shrugged. “He worshiped the ground you walked on. If me or dad were ever mad at you, he found a way to stick up for you and take your side. I mean at first, I just thought it was because you let him stay with us and you got him outta juvy, but... it just kinda kept going after that first year. Then there was the whole thing with Lindsay, and... that was weird enough.”

Kirsten nodded, remembering quite well the resemblance between herself and her half-sister, who Ryan happened to be dating at the time. How she’d thought it odd that he kept wanting to be with Lindsay even after he’d acknowledged the uncanny resemblance. She also remembered the odd, misplaced traces of jealousy she’d felt at the time, which she later buried and passed off as irrational.

“And then when you went away, he was just a totally different guy.”

At that, Kirsten lifted her eyes. “How so?”

“He was _way_ more broody than usual. I thought maybe he was gonna start punching people again. But then you came back, and he was fine. He’s just... always been really different with you.” Seth frowned. “Never seen him act the way he does around you with anyone else. Not even Marissa.”

She processed that silently for a moment.

“I just always hoped it was some sort of maternal thing, and...” he made a face. “Not what it actually is.”

“I guess you can’t control your feelings, however twisted and convoluted they may be,” she defended.

“No, but you can control your actions. He didn’t have to tell you.”

Kirsten nodded. “You didn’t have to eavesdrop, either, but you did.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And man, I wish I hadn’t.” Rising to his feet, he met her eyes, almost pleadingly. “Just... _please_ tell me that nothing happened between you guys, that he didn’t try anything with you. Because I’ve only punched somebody once and wasn’t real great at it, so I don’t want to have to do it again.”

She shook her head. “Nothing ever happened," she assured him.

And to his credit, Ryan never did make any sort of advance. But to say nothing had ever happened was perhaps a slight bending of the truth.

**

_”Kirsten?” Ryan’s voice followed her out onto the patio, followed by the sound of the door sliding open as he stepped outside._

_“Up here,” she called back from the rooftop awning, reaching for another of Seth’s plastic reindeer and tossing it on the lawn._

_“What are you doing?”_

_She leaned over slightly as he stepped out from under the awning, shielding his eyes from the sun to look up at her. “I wanted Sandy to take these down today, but he got called into work early, so I figured I’d just do it myself.”_

_“Well why didn’t you come and get me? I would have done it for you.”_

_She waved away the offer and grabbed a strand of Christmas lights, pulling it down and Ryan caught it. He began to wind it around his arm as she told him, “I appreciate your continued acts of chivalry, my dear knight, but sometimes a Queen can look out for herself.”_

_“I know, but... it’s kinda dangerous up there.”_

_Her foot slid on one of the shingles but she caught herself, nodding afterward. “I know, but I’m being cautious.”_

_“Still, I wish you’d let me help you.”_

_Kirsten smirked, rolling her eyes. “You’re not gonna let up, are you?”_

_“Maybe if you come down from there, I’ll consider it,” he teased in return._

_“Alright, fine fine,” she sighed, throwing the second-to-last reindeer off the roof before moving toward the ladder._

_On her way down with Ryan holding the ladder, she reached out to grab the last strand of lights. “Just one more thing of lights, and then I’ll--”_

_But the way in which she leaned to the side to grab them sent her tumbling from the ladder still several feet off the ground. Thankfully, Ryan had been quick enough to catch her, both of them landing hard on the lawn while the ladder fell back and crashed onto the concrete._

_Kirsten groaned, her face buried in Ryan’s chest as aches and tremors ran through her bones. “God.”_

_Ryan lifted his head, grunting in pain, “You okay?”_

_“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks to you.” She chuckled breathlessly, heart still going a mile a minute. “You’re my hero.”_

_Ryan chuckled airily, sounding as though he had the wind knocked out of him a bit. “At your service, my queen.”_

_Together they laughed at the predicament and she rolled off him, her ankle throbbing a bit as she did so. “Ow...”_

_“What? What is it?” He sat up quickly, reaching for her._

_She shook her head. “It’s just my ankle. What about you?” She eyed him. “You could’ve cracked a rib doing that.”_

_“Better me than you,” he explained, and pressed his left hand against his rib cage. “I think I’m fine.”_

_“You’re not, you’re bleeding,” she told him, spotting the gash on his arm._

_“Huh.” He glanced down at the wound, almost curiously. “How ‘bout that. Didn’t even feel it.”_

_They looked around for the source, noting that one of the pointed horns on Seth’s plastic reindeer was the most likely culprit. “Figures,” Ryan chuckled._

_Kirsten reached for his hand, the two of them getting up slowly, still aching from the fall. “Come on, I’ve got some supplies in the bathroom.”_

_She brought him to the master bedroom and had him sit on the silk bench at the foot of the bed while she fetched the first-aid kit from the bathroom. When she returned, it was with antiseptic, cotton, and gauze; she knelt in front of him and uncapped the antiseptic. “You know the drill,” she murmured, and he nodded._

_Gently, she dabbed some antiseptic on the cut, flicking her eyes up to his whenever he would hiss in pain or shift uncomfortably. “Almost done,” she murmured, after several moments of silence._

_Ryan just nodded, watching her work and handing her the gauze wrap when she requested it. The cut was long, but luckily not terribly deep. Carefully, she wrapped that section of his forearm several times over._

_“Good thing I stocked up on this a couple years ago,” she commented. Lifting her eyes to his, she gave him a tiny smirk. “I figured with a fighter in the house, this stuff might be needed.”_

_He chuckled. “Nah, I listened when you asked me to stop punching people.” Off her look, he shrugged and added sheepishly, “Except when someone deserved it.”_

_“Right,” she chuckled. After securing the gauze in place, she gave his arm a pat and leaned back, rising to her feet. “All set.”_

_“Thanks, Kirsten.”_

_She reached down a hand to help him up and he took it, though she underestimated his weight. He ended up tugging her down and once again they found themselves on their backs, though this time her bed was their net rather than the grass._

_“Sorry,” she chuckled again, embarrassed at herself._

_“No, it’s me,” he told her. “I’m not exactly a ballerina.”_

_She smiled, propping herself up and tucking her hair behind her ear, and for a moment everything stopped. Ryan was beneath her, with a hand on her waist to brace her, their eyes locked on one another. She was uncertain how long they stayed there like that, staring at one another while sprawled across her bed, though it felt like an eternity and an instant at the same time._

_Again, she tried to discern the look in his eyes. Just like when he gave her that photograph, his eyes were soft as he looked at her, his expression calm and serene. This time, she noted that his eyes bounced down to her lips and then back up again. When her stomach somersaulted, she wasn’t sure whether to enjoy or fight the feeling._

_“I, um...” Her voice escaped in little more than a whisper, common sense starting to catch up with her. She pushed herself off of him, off of the bed, and paced back and forth at the end of it. “I-I should go finish up getting that stuff off the roof.”_

_Ryan scrambled to his feet, then, sounding just as nervous as she felt. “No no, you stay. I’ll go get it. I think there’s just one reindeer left anyway.”_

_“Right, okay.”_

_He brushed past her, heading out the French doors toward the pool area, and Kirsten instinctively reached out, “Ryan...” her fingers just barely brushing his hand._

_He turned just past the threshold and looked at her expectantly, but she realized suddenly that she didn’t know what to say. But his expression of gentle understanding said everything she didn’t know how to put words to, so she just nodded and said, “Thanks.”_

_And Ryan nodded back, his blue eyes loaded with a myriad feelings she wasn’t sure either of them were ready to deal with as he replied, “You’re welcome,” and turned away without another word._

 

TBC


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her brain was fried already with thoughts of Ryan, of what had happened. The last thing she needed was her fully-grown son begging for his mommy and daddy to stay together just for him.

*****

“You’re sure?” Seth needled her, yanking her once more from her thoughts.

Kirsten nodded, though she felt as though the nod may have come off a bit manic; a bit too affirmative. “I’m sure. Nothing ever happened.”

Then he asked what she knew had been rattling around in his brain ever since he found out. “Is that why Dad left?”

“No, sweetie,” she told him, her head shaking sadly.

Sandy’s departure had its own laundry list of reasons, but Ryan’s feelings had nothing to do with it. _She_ hadn’t even known at the time; how could Sandy have known?

“Well he had to have known,” Seth insisted, almost as if he were answering her thoughts. “Why else would he leave?”

She sighed. Her son was a lot of things, but perceptive wasn’t always one of them. “Seth... I don’t have the energy to explain all of this to you, I’m really sorry. But to sum it up, your father and I just... reached a point where we couldn’t connect anymore. A point where neither of us really _wanted_ to connect anymore.”

But he shook his head. “No. No, that’s ridiculous, Mom. You and Dad survived, like... _everything._ ”

“You’re right, we did. For awhile, we absolutely did. But... you can only fight for survival so many times before you start to wonder what exactly you’re fighting for.”

“For me. Your son.”

“You’re not a little boy anymore, Seth. You’re an adult.” Her voice was growing weary, and her patience was growing thin. Her brain was fried already with thoughts of Ryan, of what had happened. The last thing she needed was her fully-grown son begging for his mommy and daddy to stay together just for him. “And we did try to work things out, we really did. And we did that for _you_. But that fell apart way too fast, and we had to stop kidding ourselves.” She pinned him with a look. “You would be wise to do the same.”

Seth stared her down, but she held her ground, arms folded across her chest as they stood facing each other in the middle of the now-vacant poolhouse. He had no idea how hard they had tried for him. But they couldn’t keep it up.

Valentine’s Day had been their official “last try.” The final time she and Sandy attempted to work through their issues and reconnect as a couple. But there was the lingerie mix-up. And Matt’s involvement with Maya Griffin. And yet another party on the pier, this time for her new company she founded with Julie.

**

_Sandy’s arm wound around her waist as they stood, watching the two entwined hearts light up with pink flame, the logo of her new company, NewMatch. “You throw a great party, babe,” he told her, pecking her cheek._

_She smiled. “Thanks, Sandy. I’m really glad you could stick around this time.”_

_Sandy smiled back, though his brows crinkled in slight confusion. “‘This time?’ What do you mean?”_

_She shrugged one shoulder, glancing down at the glass of punch in her hand. “Well, I just mean... Matt’s not dragging you away for some emergency, and you’re not running out the door to a last-minute conference call. It’s... nice.” She hoped the sincerity showed in her eyes._

_“Well...” Sandy nodded, still looking a bit uncertain. “Thank you. I wouldn’t miss this holiday for anything in the world.”_

_At that, Kirsten couldn’t help the smirk, rolling her eyes. “Ha, ha.”_

_“Nah, I mean it, honey. Valentine’s Day is... y’know. The best ever.”_

_“You’re a very funny man, King Arthur,” she teased, draping her arms over his shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss._

_“Thank you, my Queen,” he chuckled, returning her kiss._

_Together, they looked around the party, arms around each other securely, that old feeling of familiarity and warmth filling her. A feeling she had been missing for months. “Looks like everyone’s got a match tonight,” her husband commented. “Seth and Summer, Matt and Maya...”_

_She nodded. “Julie and Neil.”_

_“Roberts?” Sandy’s arms dropped from her waist as he looked at her in surprise._

_“Mm-hmm.” She suppressed a smile at the sight of Julie, giggling like a school girl, next to Dr. Neil Roberts. Leaning close to Sandy, she murmured, “That’s not public knowledge, though, so keep it to yourself.”_

_“Duly noted.” He glanced around the pier. “And where is your gallant knight this evening?”_

_“I believe he is busy moving on from the Marissa era.”_

_Sandy raised his brows. “Really? So they’re really done this time, huh?”_

_“I think so. He sounded pretty sure of himself.” She remembered her conversation with Ryan, just moments before on the pier; his subtle quest for advice that ended with a soft smile and squeeze of her hand before he left her by the punch bowl. A strange pang hit her, but she did her best to ignore it._

_“Been meanin’ to thank him,” he commented suddenly, drawing her attention._

_“For what?”_

_“I dunno. For everything. Seems like since I’ve been pre-occupied, he’s been takin’ pretty good care of you.”_

_Kirsten ducked her gaze and nodded, pushing a slice of hair behind her ear as she fought the irrational flush to her face. “He’s been very... attentive. I’ve appreciated his company.”_

_Sandy nodded, seemingly oblivious to the tumultuous thoughts hitting her brain from every direction. “Seems he appreciates your company too. You guys are so different, and yet--”_

_“So alike?” She quirked a brow, and nodded when her husband did. “Yeah. I know.”_

_She thought of Ryan grabbing her hand when everyone else abandoned her home-cooked meal; she thought of him kneeling beside her in his suit of armor, her gallant knight, swooping in to rescue her from her own sadness. She thought of the framed photograph sitting on her vanity table and the way he looked at her as she bandaged his arm._

_An involuntary shiver ran through her, her heart beating an unusual rhythm. She grabbed Sandy’s hand. “I think I’m getting tired of this party. Wanna take me home?”_

_Sandy didn’t hesitate to say yes._

**

Finally, Seth seemed to relent. All of the puffed-up confrontational stuff seemed to drain from him like air leaking from a balloon. He sighed. “Alright. Fine. Whatever. I guess if you guys wanna just throw away twenty-some-odd years of your life, that’s your decision.”

Kirsten huffed, rolling her eyes. “Seth, we’re not throwing it away. Those ‘twenty-some-odd’ years are always going to be a part of the both of us, and you know that. Stop being so dramatic.”

“I just don’t get you, mom. You just... let him go without putting up a fight, and yet it’s _Ryan_ wanting to get out of here that breaks you.” He shook his head.

She ducked her gaze, looking instead at the mattress and Ryan’s crumpled sheets as Seth headed for the door. “I told you, it’s complicated.”

“Must be, for you to get all broken up about Ryan leaving and not even shedding a tear when your husband walks out on you.” Then, it was as if her words and his combined struck something in him. He stopped in the doorway and turned to her, one hand braced on the wooden frame as he regarded her.

She met his eyes, hoping the conflicting thoughts weren’t visible in them.

“I shouldn’t even ask this--”

“Then don’t,” she urged him. He didn’t want to hear it, couldn’t handle the implications if he heard it, and she didn’t think she was ready to acknowledge it aloud.

“I have to.”

“Seth, just leave it alone.”

“So we’re just gonna keep talking in cryptic circles around the elephant in the room?” He threw his hands up.

Kirsten much preferred that to the alternative. “I think at this point, we have to. You can’t handle it, and frankly, neither can I right now. So let’s just let it lie.”

“So it’s true, then?”

She closed her eyes, shutting him and everything else out to the best of her ability as she exclaimed, “I don’t know, Seth! Okay? I don’t know right now. Everything is changing so fast, and-and... I don’t know what I feel or who I feel it for!”

“Well let me know when you figure it out.” With that, he left her to her thoughts in the pool house.

**

_”It’ll just be for a few days,” he told her as she stood with her arms folded across her chest._

_“I don’t think this is a good idea, Sandy. Look at what they did to him!” She kept speaking in clipped and hushed tones, gesturing to their closed bedroom door, indicating the living room beyond where a bruised and beaten Matt was conversing with Ryan and Seth._

_“Exactly. I can’t just leave him in his trashed apartment. What if they came back?”_

_“He doesn’t work for you anymore, it’s not your problem! I don’t want to invite danger into my home.”_

_“You were so willing two years ago, how is this any different?”_

_She raised her eyebrows. “This is not the same as Ryan’s situation.”_

_“You’re right. Ryan had stolen a car,” Sandy countered. “Matt was the victim in this situation, not the perpetrator.”_

_“Unwilling accomplice,” she corrected him. Her defensiveness over Ryan was pure instinct at this point._

_“I think the point still stands here, dear.”_

_She huffed and tightened her silk robe around herself, yanking on the satin ties. “Fine. Two nights. Then he’s gotta stay somewhere else.”_

_Sandy relented with a nod, holding his hands up in supplication to let her know he wouldn’t push for anything more. “Thank you. Thank you. I’ll go let Matt know.”_

_Kirsten followed him into the living room, the two of them standing near the fireplace as Matt sat on the couch and Ryan and Seth hovered near the kitchen. She felt Sandy giving her a light nudge and she threw him a look, but stepped forward regardless, throwing on her ‘doting wife’ smile. “Matt, we would like you to stay here for a couple nights.”_

_“Really? You’re okay with that?”  
“Yes, absolutely,” she lied, flitting her gaze up to Ryan and Seth._

_Ryan stepped forward off the look in her eyes, telling Matt, “You can stay in the pool house, man. Should give you some privacy, and the bed’s pretty comfortable.”_

_Matt had no objections to that, though that left Sandy asking, “Well then where are you gonna go?”_

_Ryan nodded toward the couch. “I’ll be right here. The couch isn’t bad for sleeping.”_

_“I’ll get you some sheets,” Kirsten offered, and the sleeping arrangements were set._

_Hours later, she found herself staring up at the ceiling fan, watching its lazy revolutions as she willed herself to sleep. But it was useless. She couldn’t sleep with the thought of nameless thugs invading her home, looking to go another round with Matt. Nor could she sleep with the nagging irrational thought that Ryan was just a room away._

_Eventually, she gave up on the idea of sleep and threw back the covers, slowly climbing out of bed so as not to disturb Sandy. Padding barefoot down the hall, she threw a glance out the patio doors toward the pool house, noting it was still dark inside. She was halfway to the kitchen when a voice startled her. “Can’t sleep either?”_

_She jumped, knowing he was there and yet not expecting him to be awake. She turned to spot Ryan propping himself up on the couch. She exhaled a smile. “No. You?”_

_“The couch may not be as comfortable as I let on,” he smirked, throwing the sheet off himself and rolling onto his feet._

_Kirsten watched him stretch his arms over his head a moment, attempting in vain not to focus on the muscles in his arms, or in his abdomen as he did so. “Thought maybe I’d grab a glass of juice or something.”_

_He straightened his white tee shirt, which had ridden up when he had stretched, and nodded. “That sounds good. I’ll join you.”_

_He followed her into the kitchen and grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge while she fetched a glass for each of them. Then she stood on one side of the island as he occupied the other, filling the glasses she passed to him and then giving one of them back to her for her own consumption._

_“So you’re not real thrilled about the new house-guest,” he commented around the rim of his glass, taking a sip._

_She smiled briefly; he could read her too well sometimes. “I just think it’s a little unsafe to have him here right now.” Shrugging, she added, “Never know when the ‘hospital mafia’ will make a return visit.”_

_He chuckled. “Yeah. But, I think Sandy’s still in their good graces, so I dunno. Might’ve been a good move on his part to bring him here.” Off her look, he shrugged. “Just to play devil’s advocate.”_

_She took a long drink of juice, setting the glass on the counter. “My husband does have a tendency to bring home strays.” She lifted her eyes to his. “And I guess the last time turned out pretty well.”_

_“Well... in case this one doesn’t, that was why I opted to stay on the couch.” He smiled at her. “It’s my job to protect the King and Queen, after all.”_

_Ah yes, the old Lancelot and Guinevere metaphor, perpetually dangling in the air between them since Halloween. Kirsten almost couldn’t help herself. “Ryan, about that... there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”_

_“Go for it.” He finished his juice in one last gulp and took the glass over to the sink._

_Kirsten’s body twisted of its own volition to follow his movement. “The whole... Lancelot thing. Or really, Lancelot and Guinevere.”_

_“Yeah...?” he prompted gently._

_Carefully, she regarded him, still contemplating how to approach such a loaded subject. “Are you familiar with the story?”_

_His gaze didn’t waver as he nodded. “Yeah. I am.”_

_“Oh.” So that meant... “So that means you know that Lancelot and Guinevere were--”_

_“Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt,” a third voice broke in, startling them both._

_They turned their attention away from each other, turning toward Matt who had just entered through the back doors. He pointed to the sink. “I just... wanted to grab a glass of water.”_

_“Oh!” Kirsten turned, noticing all at once how close she was standing to Ryan. She was thankful for the darkness in the kitchen, hoping her embarrassed flush was well hidden from both of them. “Sorry, we just--”_

_“Were chatting,” Ryan finished for her. “Kirsten couldn’t sleep, so I was keeping her company.”_

_“Right.” Matt nodded, though she wasn’t sure if he bought it._

_Then she wondered why he wouldn’t. What was so wrong about she and Ryan alone together in the middle of the kitchen? They were just talking._

_She kept telling herself that inwardly as she murmured, “I should get back to bed or I’ll be a zombie in the morning,” and bid them goodnight all too quickly._

 

TBC


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even now, sitting in the pool house Ryan just vacated for good, Kirsten had no idea how she truly felt. She ached, though she didn’t know if the ache was because he was gone or because her life was officially at a crossroads.

*****

Kirsten figured that was when things began to really unravel. Sandy’s dealings at the Newport Group, doing everything in his might to get the new hospital built, began to morph him into somebody she didn’t even know. He became indifferent about everything that wasn’t work, even expressing ambivalence where there was once concern over what had happened to his former partner.

Seth had his own issues that he wouldn’t talk about at the time -- difficulties getting into Brown. His relationship with Summer fell apart as a result and he flung himself into adolescent despair.

And then, of course, there was Ryan. It seemed the complications in his life increased tenfold the moment he turned eighteen. He had Sadie, but that unfortunately couldn’t withstand the complexities of simply being Ryan Atwood. He grappled with playing the hero for Jess, a young woman that had been involved with Trey. And as usual, he did his best not to get sucked back into all the drama surrounding Marissa Cooper.

But despite all that, he still found time to be there for her. And she for him, despite the crumbling of her marriage. And in those moments, a bond had formed. She and Ryan began to understand each other better than ever. That ability had been both a blessing and a curse. Being able to read the look in his eyes also meant understanding the implications behind it. But she never questioned him about it. Questioning him could have lead to revelations, which in turn would have forced her to figure out how she felt about it -- about him. Those thoughts had been too tumultuous at the time.

Still were, as a matter of fact. Even now, sitting in the pool house Ryan just vacated for good, Kirsten had no idea how she truly felt. She ached, though she didn’t know if the ache was because he was gone or because her life was officially at a crossroads.

She wanted to drink the confusion away, but didn’t let herself. No, she backslid into that for a short time and didn’t wish to repeat the bad behavior. She didn’t want to think about that transgression -- driven to her old habits by the thought of her husband turning into her father. By the realization that maybe her marriage was, in fact, on life support.

**

_”Y’know, they say when you grow up you marry your father,” she spoke clearly and with a purpose, all eyes at their private table at the Yacht Club fixated on her. A facetious smile escaped as she commented, “I thought I’d escaped that,” and then promptly left the table._

_She felt all the eyes still following her, heard the shocked murmurs and felt Sandy’s heavy gaze boring through the back of her head, but she didn’t care. She’d had enough. A dinner in honor of her husband, what a crock. Yes, in honor of his shady back-handed dealings in getting the new hospital built. In honor of his carelessly tossing aside his business partner, with only dollar signs in his field of vision. In honor of his complete neglect of his marriage and his family. Yes, a celebratory dinner was certainly well-deserved._

_What happened next was beyond her control. She was striding quickly for the front doors and saw it in her periphery. She grabbed it by the rim and held it down by her side, concealing it until she got outside. Then she pulled it up to eye level and stared at the glass of white wine as if studying an old friend. Her brain waged war with her impulses - showed her images of her son softly telling her she needed to get help for her addiction, of Ryan telling her he loved her. But it was the final image, of Sandy’s almost smug smile as they congratulated him on a job well done that pushed her over the edge, and with one gulp she had downed the glass of wine in its entirety._

_Ashamed with herself, she fled quickly; she got in the car and drove home, not caring if she left Sandy without a ride. Surely one of his many admirers would be happy to chauffeur him home. Surreptitious glances in the rear-view mirror every few seconds assured her that she would not get pulled over. She knew she was nowhere near the legal limit after having just one glass of wine, and yet that did nothing to assuage her irrational thoughts that the Newport police somehow knew she’d had a drink._

_As soon as she arrived home, she strode through the house, not bothering to turn on any lights, and went straight to the pool house, hoping for Ryan to be home. But it was dark and he was nowhere to be found. Then in all her anger and irrational fears, she remembered where he was -- with Theresa, likely finding out if the baby Kirsten saw her with was his or not._

_Sighing, she dropped down onto his mattress, propping her elbows on her bent knees and resting her forehead on the heels of her hands. Tears stung her eyes and she began to cry, still never moving from the darkened pool house; almost preferring it, rather, to the emptiness of the master bedroom._

_She wasn’t certain how long she sat there with tears streaming down her face. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours. But eventually, she heard footsteps, heard the door to the poolhouse opening, and soon there he was, turning on the light and flicking his brows upward in surprise at the sight of her sitting there. “Kirsten.”_

_“Hi,” she said, feeling suddenly silly and unsure of herself. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”_

_Ryan cracked just a hint of a smile, a lopsided halfway smirk. “S’alright. I didn’t ask.” He picked up his duffel bag, the one he’d taken with him to Berkeley before her news drew him home, and brought it over near the shelf of wicker drawers that was his makeshift dresser. Kirsten watched him for a moment, wondering why he was so comfortable with her just randomly invading his space. Wondering why he wasn’t questioning the tear tracks on her face, or why she was sitting on his bed in a cocktail dress. Almost as if none of it mattered._

_“How’s Theresa?”_

_“She’s good,” he commented, studiously putting away his clothes. “Doing pretty well for herself. She’s got a pretty good career going in the hotel business.”_

_“That’s good.” She just kept watching him, wondering when they would start to talk about the things they were very pointedly not bringing up._

_When he was done putting away his clothes and storing his duffel bag, he came over and sat beside her on the bed, just a foot away. Close, but not too much so. He bent his knees and draped his arms over them, one hand clasping his other wrist. He pressed his lips together and looked over at her, managing a small smile before ducking his head. Kirsten did the same._

_“I, uh... I met Daniel.”_

_That drew her gaze, though his was still downcast. “That’s her--”_

_“Son? Yeah.” He met her eyes, searched them back and forth and must have seen the question there, for he quickly added, “He’s not mine.”_

_“Oh.” Kirsten felt a wave of relief hit her._

_It must have been evident on her face; Ryan exhaled a chuckle. “Yeah.”_

_“Ryan, I’m really sorry that I--”_

_He shook his head, cutting her off with a soft, gentle voice. “I’m glad you told me, Kirsten, I really am.”_

_“But I made you come home for nothing.”_

_He smiled. “You didn’t make me. I wanted to come home and get this sorted out.”_

_“But you should’ve been having fun out at Berkeley, enjoying the--”_

_“What, the rain?” He made a face, shaking his head. “Nah. I was needed here.”_

_“By who?”_

_He looked over at her and tilted his head just slightly. “When I said on the phone that you didn’t sound ‘fine,’ I kinda thought it was more than the whole Theresa thing.”_

_Kirsten sighed, looking down at her lap and resituating her dress over her legs. “Really.”_

_“Mm-hmm. And... I know I’ve kinda been gone a lot, and I’m really sorry. I feel like I should’ve been here, y’know...” He chuckled, just barely, “...protecting the kingdom.”_

_Her answering smirk was rueful, eyes still on her lap as she murmured, “Yeah, well... not much of a kingdom to uphold these days.”_

_He nodded slowly, the two of them looking out the pool house doors and across the yard, watching the lit-up ripples on the pool’s surface. A long moment passed before Ryan spoke again, softly... gently, as if not to pry or push her. “You wanna talk about it?”_

_“I drank,” she confessed without preamble._

_Ryan looked over at her in surprise, but he didn’t say anything. She just watched his eyes dart back and forth across the air in front of him, processing the information she’d just dumped in his lap. Then, he turned to watch the pool again. “Things really getting that bad?”_

_She nodded, a lump rising in her throat. “I don’t know him anymore,” she whispered, emotion starting to get to her. “And... there was this whole dinner thing for him at the Yacht Club tonight, and that just riled me up. I stormed out, and on my way to the door, I grabbed a glass of wine...”_

_“Oh, Kirsten,” he sighed, and she couldn’t tell whether it was disappointment or empathy in his tone._

_“I know.” Tears sprang to her eyes again. “I’m so sorry, Ryan, I don’t know why--”_

_“Hey, hey.” Gently, he reached over and caught a couple stray tears with his thumbs, cupping her face afterward and forcing her to meet his eyes. The look in them was intense... almost a little bit stern... as he told her strongly, “You have_ nothing _to apologize for. Y’hear me? Nothing.”_

_Kirsten nodded, her face still held captive in his strong, yet tender grip._

_He shrugged, offering her a slight smile. “You’re just... going through something.”_

_Slowly, he let go of her, and Kirsten realized in that moment that she’d been holding her breath. Her heart was beating a strange rhythm and her face tingled where he had touched, though she tried to ignore it. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”_

_Ryan shook his head. “You can’t.”_

_His words, simple but succinct, touched her in a way she’d been needing, and again tears came to her eyes. Slowly, she leaned toward him, resting her head in his lap and curling onto her side. She felt his hands hang suspended in the air, momentary confusion overtaking him, before he cupped her shoulder with one hand and gently stroked her hair with the other._

_“I’m so tired, Ryan,” she cried softly. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, she was exhausted. Tired of fighting a losing battle with keeping Sandy’s head above water. Tired of trying to salvage the wreck that had become her marriage. Tired of trying to figure out if her son still cared about anything other than Summer Roberts, and tired of trying to figure out what Ryan Atwood meant to her in the most basic sense. She was just tired of it all._

_“So sleep, Kirsten,” he answered her, a soft hand trailing through the ends of her long hair. “I’ll look after you.”_

_Those were the last words she heard before she allowed herself to drift away._

**

Kirsten remembered that night crystal clear; she remembered waking up sometime in the middle of the night with her head still in Ryan’s lap. He had fallen asleep sitting up, his elbow propped on one knee, head in his hand, while his other hand remained entangled in her hair. She remembered the warmth, the rush of affection, she felt for him. He’d always been so gallant. And even when she had told him weeks ago to get out of his habit of being the hero, he didn’t hesitate to help her when she was the one needing to be rescued.

She remembered urging him to climb into bed, insisting she would be fine. Being Ryan, he resisted, putting her needs first. But when she laid a kiss upon his cheek and told him, _”Rest, Lancelot,”_ he had relented and closed his eyes.

Three days went by and they didn’t talk about what happened. What she’d told him about her small transgression had remained between them, for which she was grateful. And there was no mention of the fact that they’d fallen asleep together -- that she’d gone to him under duress at all. She had been unable to figure out at the time if it was because there was really nothing to tell, or because there _was_ , and both of them were too uncertain of the implications.

Either way, they pressed on for three days as though nothing had happened. Sandy had given her the silent treatment for awhile after the dinner at the Yacht Club, but Kirsten couldn’t bring herself to care. From then on, she and her husband walked on eggshells around each other, just barely keeping things civil. Seth saw what was happening to their family and opted to ignore it, instead burying his head in the “sand” of the Roberts household.

Hell, even Sandy had seen what was happening to their family and he couldn’t be bothered with it. Not when he’d been so close to breaking ground on that damned hospital. Instead, he buried his head in his own version of sand; namely, his office, where he began to spend his nights. On the rare occasion that he did come home, Kirsten shut him out. Or, more specifically... locked him out.

**

_Kirsten watched the clock on the wall reach 1a.m. as she heard his car pull into the driveway. She was in the kitchen, in complete darkness, awaiting the show. What she had done was incredibly petty of her, but she didn’t care. Sandy needed to be made aware that she was no longer going to put up with the ‘new’ him. Holding her breath, she listened to the sound of his key in the lock, the door swinging shut behind him._

_Predictably, he headed straight for the master bedroom, and she ducked her head, out of plain view as she listened to his string of soft curses as he realized the door had been locked. His footsteps came back the way they had gone and she sat ramrod stiff, just watching. He went outside through the French doors in the living room, and Kirsten watched through the window as he made his way around the pool, to the master bedroom’s own pair of French doors. She had pulled the blinds, locking those as well. She watched another string of curses leave his lips as he stuffed a hand through his hair._

_He banged on the door, then, shouting at her. “Come on, Kirsten, I know you’re in there! Let me in. You can’t lock me out of my own bedroom.”_

_Sure I can, Kirsten had thought wickedly, now peering out the window by the sink. If you can choose your work over your marriage, I sure as hell can lock you out of your bedroom._

_Sandy pounded on the door a few more times before giving up; Kirsten held her breath as he made his way around the pool again, re-entering the house through the living room. From there, she watched him head straight for the door, allowing it to slam behind him. For a moment it was quiet, until his car started up and she heard him pull out again._

_She thought of the look on his face; the pure anger as he banged on the French doors of the master bedroom. His adamant demand that she couldn’t lock him out, when he didn’t even acknowledge how seldom he came home anymore. How he didn’t even apologize for not coming home until 1 in the morning._

_How dare he. That was the main thought in her head as she turned on the kitchen light and bent down to the cupboard under the sink. How dare he._

_How dare he make such a racket in the dead of night, with Ryan sleeping just yards away. If Seth would have been home, it would have been even worse. All the noise surely would have woken him up; he would’ve wandered downstairs and asked what was going on, and Kirsten knew she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him exactly what was going on._

_She pulled out the bottle and set it on the counter, grabbing a short glass from the cupboards overhead next. She went to the freezer and grabbed a couple of ice cubes, listening to them clank against the glass as she broke the seal on the bottle and popped it open; she stared at the frosted glass and geese design along the side as the smell of vodka stung her nostrils._

_How dare he make her do this._

_She poured herself a glass, the ice cracking and splitting as the liquid consumed them. She stared at the glass, almost transfixed by the slow circular rotation of the cubes, set in motion by the vodka. Her hand shook as she picked it up._

_How dare he ruin us, she couldn’t help but think, as she raised the glass to her lips, not feeling the presence in the room until it was right beside her._

_“Whoa, hey!”_

_The glass was knocked suddenly from her hands toward the sink. She watched it hit the porcelain and shatter, the sting once again invading her nostrils. Her heart thudded in her ears, the incident so jarring that it disoriented her for a second. Then she looked up and saw Ryan standing beside her, gaping at her._

_“Kirsten, what the hell are you doing?”_

_His voice was hard, not soft like it was when he normally spoke to her. His eyes were lit with panic and Kirsten searched them frantically as if the answer to his question was hidden somewhere in his blue irides._

_“I -- I don’t...”_

_“Why were you going to drink that?” He grabbed the bottle of Grey Goose, shaking it in her face. “Why do you even have this at all?”_

_“I just...” But she was left without an excuse, without a reasonable explanation as to why she was about to drink an entire glass of vodka. So instead she just stood and watched as Ryan poured the rest of the bottle down the drain, his jaw clenched._

_He slammed the empty bottle down on the counter, popping the top back on before he chucked it in the recycling bin. He cleaned up the remnants of the broken glass and deposited the shards in the garbage, cleaning up the sink afterward and washing away the acrid stench of the alcohol. Kirsten just watched it all play out silently, as if viewing the situation from somewhere outside of herself, the enormity of what he’d stopped her from doing hitting her like an express train._

_When he turned to look at her again, his expression had softened. His eyes were no longer filled with panic or accusation, just confusion and concern. The adrenaline from the jarring confrontation left Kirsten all at once and she felt herself deflate like a balloon. She slumped against the counter, a lump rising in her throat._

_“Kirsten...”_

_She turned to him and they searched one another, each trying to read the other. Finally, Ryan spoke again, his voice soft but firm. “You have to stop this.”_

_“I know,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. “I know.”_

_When she broke down, Ryan immediately wrapped his arms around her, offering comfort. She buried her face in his neck and wept softly, her hands clinging to him. “Thank you for saving me,” she murmured, knowing he would infer the drinking._

_He nodded against her, his voice wry but solemn at the same time. “At your service.”_

_She chuckled mirthlessly through her tears and hung onto him tightly. “I don’t think I can do this.”_

_“What?” He ran a hand down her back._

_Kirsten ignored the shiver that stirred up as she replied, “What it’s going to take to really stop this.”_

_At that, Ryan pulled back, reading in her eyes the meaning behind her words. He took a deep breath. “You think you’re going to keep having these... urges?”_

_“It’s been getting worse since the Yacht Club, Ryan,” she sighed, still not moving from his embrace; instead, allowing him to wipe the few tears that had snuck their way down her cheeks. “I don’t see how we can go back.”_

_He nodded his understanding, releasing her gently. Now they just stood a foot apart; Kirsten leaned against the stove while Ryan leaned against the countertop. She ducked her gaze, admitting softly, “I don’t think I_ want _to go back.”_

_That drew his attention. “What?”_

_She held his gaze as she dropped the final bomb -- a shock for both him, and the part of herself still in denial. “I don’t think I want to be with Sandy anymore.”_

 

TBC


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her marriage was truly over. In hindsight, she couldn’t believe it took her until the beginning of April to realize it.

*****

As soon as she had said it to Ryan in the kitchen that night, she began to feel it with every bit of herself. Her marriage was truly over. In hindsight, she couldn’t believe it took her until the beginning of April to realize it.

_”Ya done lockin’ me out?” Sandy had asked, coming into the bedroom and tossing his briefcase on the bed._

_Kirsten nodded, folding the shirts she’d brought up from the laundry room. “Yes, I am.” No sense mentioning that, in her short-sighted plan to agitate her estranged husband, she’d forgotten to leave herself a way back into the bedroom. Ryan had had to jimmy the lock; a skill to which she chose to turn a blind eye._

_Sandy nodded back, glancing around the bedroom as if he were in unfamiliar surroundings. He was, in a way, with all his overnights at the office. “So are we good, you and me?”_

_She looked up at him, fighting to keep the surprise from her expression. “Sandy, we’ve barely spoken to each other in the last two weeks. You’ve been spending almost all of your time at the office.” Glancing surreptitiously outside, she spotted Ryan cleaning the pool and lowered her voice slightly so as not to be heard through the French doors. “I’ve been so upset with you that I deliberately locked you out of our bedroom, and you want to know if things between us are ‘good’?”_

_He sighed, ducking his head. “Yeah, you’re right.” He threw a glance toward the headboard, their Camelot crowns hanging off each post denoting their side of the bed. “So I suppose it’s time we invest in some counseling of some sort.”_

_Kirsten studied him closely. “Is that really what you want?” Finishing folding one of the clean pillow cases in the laundry basket, she folded her arms. “After everything over the last few years... after Carter and Rebecca and all the stuff with my dad, and you and Rachel, and... God knows how many other obstacles... do you really think therapy is going to help us?”_

_He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “What’re you sayin’ here, Kirsten?”_

_She swallowed, hard, not wanting the inevitable to come from her, but knowing that it had to. “I’m saying that, at this point, I think I want us to separate.”_

_Things spun out of control quickly from there. The proximity of Ryan just outside the doors and Seth upstairs was no longer a concern as they shouted at one another; Sandy stormed around the bedroom and started throwing some of his things into a box -- some of his casual clothes and a few books, not to mention a couple of trophies he’d obtained in surf competitions several years before._

_Kirsten watched as his King Arthur crown became the final piece; Sandy tossed it toward the box and it hooked around the top of one of his trophies like a thrown horseshoe. “Guess it was too much for me to hope we could stick to that whole ‘for better or worse’ thing, huh?” he jabbed, giving her a look._

_But she held her ground, arms hugged around her midsection in a subconscious protective stance, her eyes hard as she ground out, “Don’t even try that with me, Sandy. You know as well as I do that there has been a great deal more ‘worse’ lately.”_

_“So that’s just it, then. It’s done?”_

_“I think we need to give it a week or two and see,” she told him honestly._

_“Fine. You can have your two weeks then,” he huffed, grabbing his box and hoisting it into his arms. The crown teetered precariously on the edge of his trophy as he shifted the box under one arm, turning to her. “Guess it’s sort of ironic, in a way.”_

_The sudden softness to his voice tripped her up momentarily, particularly after the seething he had just done. “What is?”_

_“This whole thing.” He nodded at the Guinevere crown, still hanging on its post on her side of the bed. “The Camelot metaphor from Halloween.” He raised his eyebrows. “Arthur and Guinevere didn’t make it either.” As he turned, he added over his shoulder, “But in their case it was because in the middle of it all, she fell for Lancelot.” And then he headed for the door._

_Kirsten stared at the crown a moment, Sandy’s last comment hitting her like a ton of bricks, and her eyes meandered toward the French doors as a result. Ryan had paused his cleaning of the pool, looking at her curiously. Her heart skipped and she pushed the feeling away, chasing after her husband._

_“Sandy, I hope you know that I still love you.” She met him at the front door._

_He nodded sadly. “I know ya do. I love you too.” He shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe a couple weeks is all we need to salvage the kingdom.”_

_Kirsten nodded, and accepted a kiss on her cheek before he turned to head out the front door. As he did, his crown fell from its perch on the trophy and clattered onto its side on the tile floor, rolling away. But Sandy didn’t turn to retrieve it. Instead, he just kept walking, and the door closed behind him._

_She sat down hard on the entryway stairs, watching the crown roll toward the bottom of the stairs, stopping at Seth’s feet. She just stared, a numbness starting to settle over her as her son slowly bent to pick up his father’s crown, examining it in confusion before turning his eyes up to her._

_“Where was Dad going? Why did he have a box of his stuff?”_

_Kirsten opened and closed her mouth, a million half-truths and sugar-coated explanations coming to her at once. “Seth...”_

_But the look on her face must have been enough. The hand that held Sandy’s crown fell to his side, the gold-plated accessory dangling loosely off the pads of his fingers. “Got it.” He then trudged up the stairs, slowly, as if the gravity of the entire situation had already set in._

_She wanted to call after him, but found that she was left unable to speak. Instead, she drew her eyes to the doors past the living room, where she knew she would find Ryan -- and there he was. He leaned on the door frame, arms folded as he regarded her quietly. Sandy’s words rang in her head:_ “In the middle of it all, she fell for Lancelot,” _as Ryan made his way toward her._

_No words were exchanged. Her eyes just followed him as he came to her side and sat on the entryway steps beside her, the two of them sitting in practically the same positions they’d been in in the pool house, after that disastrous dinner at the Yacht Club. Kirsten clasped her hands around her knees, sighing heavily._

_Ryan continued to say nothing, instead offering silent support. He rested a hand in the middle of her back and she felt the transfer of warmth, the transfer of strength. Kirsten turned to look at him, their eyes searching... reading... silently conversing as they so often did. She found herself somewhat amazed at the fact that, even after the last several months, after all the ups and downs and backs and forths, he was still on her side._

_Without breaking gaze, she found herself asking quietly, “Still?”_

_And Ryan tuned right in to what was on her mind; he often did effortlessly. So he nodded and promised her, “Always.”_

**

Kirsten stuffed her hands through her hair, watching the sun beginning to set beyond the infinity pool. It had been a good couple hours since Seth had left her to herself; a couple of hours she had spent lost in her thoughts, trying to sort out the events of the past couple weeks.

The dynamic in the house had shifted rapidly, almost as soon as Sandy left, and Kirsten was powerless to stop it. Seth had become more of a ghost than usual, spending most of his days (and nights) over at the Roberts house. She and Sandy had tried to speak on the phone at least a couple times every week during their trial separation, but each conversation tended to spiral into an argument; something that had left both of them facing what was now an inevitability: divorce.

And Ryan... well, the shift between her and Ryan landed her where she was at that exact moment: sitting in an empty pool house, staring at the sunset and wishing she knew what she wanted.

**

_”Hey, what are you doing down here? I need you!”_

_The look on Julie’s face was frantic, and Kirsten would have smiled if she weren’t so sad. She gently tugged her silk wrap a little more tightly around her shoulders. “I’m sorry Julie, I’ll just be a few more minutes. I needed some air.”_

_“Oh.” Reasoning seemed to catch up with her friend. “I guess this isn’t the ideal place for you, with you and Sandy splitting up.”_

_“Right.”_

_“I’m so sorry, Kiks,” Julie intoned, tilting her head and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Here I am getting all excited about this benefit, and my upcoming marriage when yours is falling apart!”_

_“It’s okay, Julie,” she told her, and meant it. “You have every right to be excited. I’m excited_ for _you. I’m just...” She sighed, attempting a smile. “Having a hard time getting enthused about setting people up on dates tonight.”_

_“Are you guys really getting a divorce?”_

_Kirsten nodded, slowly, watching the waves crash along the shore. She leaned against one of the thick wooden columns under the pier. “Yeah, we are. We talked about it this afternoon. We’re gonna tell Seth about it in a couple of days, and then start moving things forward next week.”_

_“Wow. I’m so sorry.” Julie stepped forward to give her a hug, rubbing her back gently._

_“Well, y’know, maybe this is a good thing,” Kirsten told her, brushing back the hair that blew in her face. “Sandy and I, it’s just been one problem after another, for at least a few years.”_

_“That’s how it was with me and Jimmy too. And when all the fraud stuff came up, we just kinda reached that point where we had to stop kidding ourselves.”_

_She nodded. For all of her faults and superficial tendencies, Julie knew what she was talking about in this area. “Exactly. And we just weren’t there for each other when the other one needed, so...”_

_Julie nodded back. “So maybe it’s time for you both to find someone that will always be there for you, no matter what.”_

_“Hey, there you are.”_

_She and Julie turned at the sound of Ryan’s voice above the crashing waves. He stood just yards away, hands in the pockets of his dress pants._

_Julie planted her hands on her hips. “And what are you doing down here, Ryan? I thought you were supposed to be mingling with some of the bachelorettes.” She grinned. “There are some very pretty college girls up there...”_

_He chuckled, “Yeah, I know,” and one hand left his pocket to brush through his hair. “Guess I just... didn’t hit it off with any of them.” To Kirsten, he nodded and told her, “I was looking for you, actually. Wondered where you’d gone.”_

_“Just needed some air,” she sighed, and watched his expression fill with understanding. “I’m sorry I dragged you to this thing.”_

_He waved away the apology. “Nah, it’s fine. You need me, I’m there.”_

_Julie glanced between the two of them and then looked to Kirsten with a very pointed, raised-brow expression. “Well! I suppose I should get back up there... make sure none of those Newpsies have stolen Neil away from me.”_

_Kirsten was left to wonder about the smirk Julie gave her then, as she was left alone with Ryan. “I really am sorry I dragged you here, though. I know these parties aren’t really your style.”_

_“Well, they’re not, but... oh well. Free food and all the fruit punch I can drink isn’t too bad a deal.” He gave her a lopsided grin, and she couldn’t help the giggle._

_Somewhere above them on the pier, love songs played; glasses were clinking and people were laughing -- Newport’s singles, dancing, drinking, and enjoying the night. But for the two of them below, the enjoyment was a bit strained._

_“How are you doing with all of this?” Ryan asked softly, having overheard part of her conversation with Sandy earlier that day._

_“As good as can be expected,” she murmured, resting the back of her head on the wooden column._

_“Maybe_ you _shouldn’t have been dragged to this thing.”_

_She shrugged. “It’s my job.” And again, she tugged her wrap more tightly around her body. “Granted, I’m my own boss, but still.”_

_Ryan gave her a slight smile. “Well, maybe you can talk to your boss and tell her she should ease up and let you have a little time off.”_

_Kirsten sighed out a smile. “You’re sweet to look out for me, Ryan. But I’m gonna be okay. It’s...” Her smile turned slightly rueful as she admitted, “It’s just gonna be a little tough being the queen for a bit.”_

_“Well, feel free to call on your knight whenever you need him.”_

_She blinked slowly, appreciative of his presence in her life. “Thank you.”_

_A new song floated down to them and Ryan groaned, closing his eyes. “Ah God, I hate Nickelback.”_

_Kirsten giggled. “I could tell the DJ to play something else.”_

_“Nah, it’s alright. Much as I hate them, this song is... actually not terrible.”_

_She listened for a moment, the lyrics speaking of loving someone all along and being away for too long. “I kinda like it.” She met his eyes. “Maybe a dance would cheer me up.”_

_He nodded. “Well, there are plenty of bachelors up there.” He made a face. “Some kinda... creepy, but I’ll find you a good one.”_

_She ducked her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear almost shyly. “Well, there’s only one bachelor I wanna dance with tonight, and he’s standing in front of me.”_

_Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Me? Oh, I dunno, Kirsten.... I’m not, uh...” He looked nervous suddenly, almost skittish. “I’m not a great dancer.”_

_“It’s just turning in a circle. Come on,” she cajoled, and offered a friendly, if slightly flirtatious, smile. “I promise I won’t step on your toes.”_

_He chuckled, unbuttoning his suit jacket and raking a hand through his hair again. “Wish I could promise the same thing.”_

_With a grin, she stepped into his embrace, feeling his right hand settle on her waist while his left hand grasped her right. They remained a good, appropriate several inches from each other, though Kirsten was certain she could feel... something... filling the air between them. Something that had always been there._

_The lead singer lamented about asking for one last dance, saying he would “withstand all of hell to hold your hand” as Ryan gently laid their clasped hands on his chest, his hand still covering hers._

_“Guess this isn’t so bad,” he commented._

_Kirsten rolled her eyes, smirking. “Gee, thanks.”_

_He chuckled, pulling her a little closer. “You know what I mean.”_

_Their cheeks brushed and Kirsten couldn’t ignore the way that her heart skipped this time. Nor could she ignore the way the movement of his hand on her back sent up shivers; it would have been easy to blame it on the chilly ocean air and the occasional spray of mist, but she knew that wasn’t the cause._

_“You okay?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with comfort and familiarity._

_Kirsten took a deep breath and then nodded. “Yeah. Why?”_

_“Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”_

_All at once she realized how close they were. She was pressed against him fully, their cheeks exchanging warmth and joined hands clasped over his heart. She pressed hers to his chest, able to feel the thudding even through his suit jacket and button-down shirt. “So’s yours.”_

_“I know.”_

_Tension wedged itself firmly between them, then, as the song faded into a more up-tempo number. They still stood in their slow-dancing position, completely still, each of them pulling back just slightly to search one another’s eyes. Ryan sucked in a breath and Kirsten fought to figure out if they should talk about whatever was happening here or sweep it under the rug._

_He made the decision for her when he broke away with a weak smile, telling her, “I think I need some punch.”_

_And then he left her with her conflicting thoughts on the beach._

 

TBC


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "‘No sooner had Lancelot beheld Queen Guinevere, then he fell deeply in love with her.’"

*****

A week after that slow dance and Kirsten still felt everything as if it had just happened - the security and comfort she felt with Ryan, the warmth of his body pressed against hers despite the chill coming in off the waves. The thudding of his heart, felt clearly against her fingertips even through the layers of his suit. The look in his eyes just before he broke away from her.

Why hadn’t she just asked him then? Why hadn’t she broached the subject? Part of her wondered if it was because she knew what would happen and she hadn’t been prepared for it.

“Kirsten? Are you out here?”

She straightened at the sound of Julie’s voice, just barely able to call out, “I’m in here,” before Julie made her way to the pool house. The sun had set now. The pinks and oranges of dusk had settled into the periwinkles and deep blues of early night.

Julie stopped in the doorway, assessing her friend. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

Kirsten blinked as the lights in the pool house were suddenly turned on, her eyes momentarily needing to adjust. Then she looked down at the bed and drew her arms around herself. “Sorry, Julie. I forgot we were going over the budget tonight.”

Julie narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Ryan left,” she explained, knowing she was being vague and yet Julie seemed to understand all the same.

She sat beside her on the bed. “Why?”

Kirsten sighed and then delved into the events of the morning.

**

_”I think that’s the last of it,” Seth grunted, setting a box of his things in the entryway, atop an already precarious stack._

_Kirsten swallowed hard, knowing that all of this was for the best and that in the future, her son would understand why she had to do what she did. “Do you need help driving this to your dad’s?” she offered._

_He shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. You go,” he waved her away, “enjoy your Saturday.”_

_The comment was made flippantly and it stung. “Seth, I wish things could have turned out differently--”_

_“Well they didn’t,” he cut her off, his brown eyes hard. “You gave up, so...”_

_Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reminded him lowly, “There were two people involved in this. I wasn’t the only one that gave up.” Of course she knew that fact didn’t matter. Seth had favored his father over her since he was a little boy, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon._

_She and Seth said goodbye; and though he promised to visit at least once a week, Kirsten knew that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to blame her for this for a long, long time._

_Ryan had made himself scarce that morning, only coming out when Seth was about to leave. Their goodbye was awkward, if a little terse. They had each chosen their sides in the downfall of her marriage, and they just happened to be in opposition._

_Once Seth had gone, she and Ryan turned to one another. He made his way over to her from the front door while she stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “You okay?”_

_She nodded even though she wasn’t; it was just instinct, at this point. “Yeah. I mean... not really, but I kinda have to be, don’t I?” She shrugged. “This is all my fault.”_

_“You’re already beating yourself up? Kirsten...” He shook his head. “This is nobody’s ‘fault.’”_

_“I could have done so many things differently--” she started._

_“Yeah, and so could Sandy,” he shot back, the look in his eyes definitive. “Neither of you did, or wanted to, or whatever the case may have been. The point is, you and Sandy stopped working. It was nobody’s fault.” After a beat, he added, “And if Seth can’t see that, then screw him.”_

_Her brows raised briefly, surprised by the sudden trace of venom she heard in his voice. “You sound pretty sure of that.”_

_“I am. I mean, I’ve always liked him, but he gets tunnel vision about stuff like this. Seth’s main concern is Seth. So of course he’s gonna pick sides and act like a brat.”_

_Kirsten opened her mouth to question his sudden candidness about her son, but before she could, Ryan stepped closer, the two of them sharing the doorway now as he reached out to touch her arms, which she had folded across herself. She looked into his eyes, the blues softening along with his voice._

_“My main concern in all this? Is you. How it’s affecting you. I could care less whose fault it is.”_

_A slow smile spread across her face. “Thank you, Ryan.”_

_He shrugged it off, a half-smile playing about his lips. “I’m your knight, Guinevere,” he joked. “If I don’t look out for you, then I’m not doin’ my job.”_

_“Right. Lancelot.” She smiled a little brighter. Then, she tilted her head. “Except, Lancelot was in love with Guinevere.”_

_They met eyes as his smile faded. Ryan’s countenance was suddenly very solemn, and Kirsten drew in a soft breath._

_Slowly, he nodded to her statement. “Yes. He was.”_

_She searched the blues of his eyes. “But you’re... I mean, you’re not....”_

_Ryan ducked his gaze a moment, his shoes suddenly interesting as his hands released her arms and he leaned back against the door frame. Softly, he spoke... as if reciting verse. “‘No sooner had Lancelot beheld Queen Guinevere, then he fell deeply in love with her.’”_

_Kirsten’s heart bounced straight past her feet and back up again, her pulse quickening. She swallowed hard. “That’s... very pretty.”_

_His brows flicked upward briefly, his eyes still not meeting hers as he commented, “Pretty accurate too. I just... tried to stave it off for the last few years.”_

_Here it was. The moment she had been simultaneously dreading and looking forward to since this whole Camelot metaphor began, way back in October. The moment they had overlooked several times; a moment occasionally interrupted by reality. She had a feeling her entire world was about to blow wide open._

_She searched his eyes, almost desperately, her voice hushed. “What are you saying, Ryan?”_

_“I’m in love with you.”_

_His voice had been soft, no emphasis placed on any word, and his eyes had held hers. Kirsten had never felt such a somersault in her stomach. The confession, though partly-expected, still left her a bit breathless. “What?”_

_But she was afforded no time to assess how she felt about his confession as a third voice abruptly joined in. “What?!”_

_Startled, she and Ryan both jumped, seeing Seth standing by the open front door with shock all over his face. Ryan ducked his head a moment, cursing under his breath, before he turned to his friend. “Seth...”_

_“You’re_ in love _with my mom? What the_ fuck _, man?!”_

_“Hey! Seth!” she scolded his language usage, but it was futile. Even she had to admit to herself that the situation called for that reaction from him._

_“You were like a brother to me.” He stepped up to them, just inches from Ryan looking like he wanted to kill him. “How the hell could you do this?”_

_“Look, Seth, it’s not like I tried to--”_

_“Just save it,” he huffed, a disgusted look on his face aimed right at Ryan._

_Kirsten swallowed hard as her son gave her a look. “As if I_ needed _another reason to get the hell out of here.” He then turned tail and left._

_And Kirsten was then torn between staying to talk to Ryan, and chasing after her son. She sent an apologetic glance Ryan’s way, eyes filled with tears._

_Ryan pressed his lips together in disappointment, arms crossed over his chest, as he nodded his understanding. He looked to the floor then as she turned on her heel and ran for the front door._

_She caught him just as he was getting into the car. “Seth! Please, wait.”_

_“No way. I only came back to grab my skateboard and instead I get to find out my best friend... my_ surrogate brother _... wants to plow my mother. This is the last thing I need.”_

_“Look, I had no idea he--”_

_“Whatever, okay? I gotta go.” He blew her off entirely, throwing the car in reverse and backing quickly down the driveway._

_Kirsten could do nothing but watch him go and swallow the bitter taste of bile in her throat. She felt sick; over what, though, she wasn’t sure. Whether it was her son’s venom, Ryan’s confession, or her own tumultuous feelings, she had no idea. She needed to sort it out._

_So, after wiping a few stray tears that had escaped, she picked herself up and strode back into the house, heading for the kitchen. “Ryan--”_

_But she stopped short at the sight of an empty kitchen. Frowning briefly, she headed to the next likely destination: the pool house. When she stepped outside, she noticed that the door to the pool house was wide open, so she headed for it instinctively. What she saw going on inside just made her all the more queasy._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Packing my things.”_

**

By the time Kirsten had finished telling Julie everything, tears were rolling silently down her cheeks. “And then he just left,” she said. “I didn’t even get a chance to talk to him about what happened, or tell him that I--” She stalled on unsaid words; words she wasn’t sure that she felt or if the amalgamation of every feeling of the last few weeks were suddenly tricking her. Defeated, she ducked her head, “I don’t know what I would tell him.”

Julie just kept rubbing her back comfortingly, sweeping her hair out of her tear tracks. “Kirsten, can I tell you something I noticed? About you and Ryan?”

Her stomach somersaulted just at the pairing of herself with Ryan. “Sure.”

“You guys just always... _get_ each other. I don’t know how to explain it, and I don’t know when I first noticed it, but it was a long time ago. And I think at first, I just ignored it. He lived with you guys, he was really great friends with Seth, and he was dating my daughter.” Almost as an aside to herself, she muttered, “Almost wish he still was dating her instead of that walking dive bar she’s making a bad habit of now.”

Kirsten allowed a slight smirk at that, choosing not to remind Julie how _she_ behaved in her youth, and instead just listened.

“But over the last few months, whatever that... thing... was between you and Ryan that I first saw... it got stronger. He turned eighteen, him and Marissa were no longer together, and things just... kinda changed. He was there for you, Kirsten. Unfailingly. Every single time that Sandy bailed on you for the Newport Group. Every single time I saw him leaving a party early, the next time I saw you, Ryan would be right next to you, making sure you were okay. He loves you.”

She was practically floored by Julie’s words; this woman, who very often couldn’t see beyond her possessions or her daughters, somehow saw all of that.

“I don’t know how you feel about him, Kirsten, but if the way you’re acting now is any indication... you just might love him back the same way.” Then she did what no one else had. She gave her a little nudge and told her, “And that’s okay.”

Kirsten figured she must have had a fairly surprised expression on her face, because Julie tilted her at her. “Come on, you know who you’re talking to, right? The queen of May/September relationships?” She raised her eyebrows.

Kirsten half-smiled, almost chuckling. “Right.”

“There’s nothing wrong about having chemistry with someone younger than you.”

She sighed. “Even if that ‘someone’ just happened to be under my care until he turned eighteen? And even if that ‘someone’ was my son’s best friend?”

“Well I never said it was a perfect situation. It’s complicated as hell, Kirsten, but it’s not ‘wrong.’”

“I don’t think other people in Newport are gonna see it that way.”

Julie gave her a look. “And since when do you care what the Newpsies think?”

Kirsten ducked her gaze; she had a point. Still... “I just... don’t want to make Seth angry.”

“You won’t.”

She and Julie both startled at the distinctly male voice that joined them, and they turned sharply to find Seth in the doorway of the pool house. They both stood up, Julie watching in trepidation as Kirsten nervously smoothed her hands over her jeans. “Seth, you’re back. I-I wasn’t expecting--”

Seth held up a hand to forestall the rest of her words. “Just let me say what I came here to say, and then I’ll be outta your hair.”

She sucked in a breath, heart in her throat pounding wildly, stomach churning at all the words of disappointment and betrayal about to leave her son’s mouth. What came out instead was a bit of a surprise.

“I’m not angry with you,” he told her, his soulful brown eyes holding her gaze. “I was at first, but... I realized it wasn’t you I was mad at. It was Ryan. So Dad and I went to find him.”

Her heart dropped straight through the floor, and her hand fluttered to her chest as if that would stop the feeling. “You told your father.”

He shrugged. “I was upset. Confused. I didn’t know what to do.”

Lord knew what Sandy had done now. “Your father, he’s--”

“Pissed,” Seth nodded. “And understandably so.”

Julie interrupted then, gesturing to the door. “Maybe I should just--”

Kirsten grabbed her wrist, uncertain she could handle the fallout of this conversation on her own. “Please stay,” she said plaintively.

Julie nodded her understanding, looking to Seth for permission.

He nodded back, blinking slowly, “It’s fine,” and planted his hands on his hips - his thoughtful pose.

Kirsten released Julie’s wrist and trained her eyes on her son once more.

“So Dad and I went to find him. Not too hard to find someone who wants to get away but doesn’t have enough money to go far.”

“The Mermaid,” Kirsten murmured instinctively. The Mermaid Hotel, just on the outskirts of the nice part of Newport.

“Yeah. So we found him. Dad, uh... Dad yelled, definitely.”

“No punches were thrown?” she asked.

Seth raised his eyebrows. “From _Dad_? I think the most Dad could do is sing Ryan to death.”

“He punched Jimmy once,” Julie pointed out, then off their looks, she held up her hands and added, “But I’m not here. Continue.”

“But no, Dad just yelled at him. Asked him what the hell he was thinking. Ryan said he didn’t plan any of this or think it through, it just happened. He said he was sorry and that he tried to ignore it and fight it as long as he possibly could.” Sighing, he sat down in the wicker chair in the corner of the pool house, near the door. “Dad kinda calmed down after that, and... he just kinda started running out of steam.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he focused on his fingers - invisible lint or hangnails, possibly - and avoided her gaze. “He asked Ryan if he knew what he was doing, telling you how he felt. Ryan said he couldn’t have kept it in any longer, but he didn’t want to hurt anybody and that was why he had to leave.”

Her son met her eyes again and Kirsten’s heart leapt back into her throat. There was still a slight hardness there, some repressed anger, mingled with some sadness. “And, of course, Dad had to do his lawyer thing and play devil’s advocate. He asked Ryan if he was willing to give up everything to pursue this... whatever... with you. If, on the off-chance you felt something for him too, I mean. He asked if he was willing to just give up all his friends, his connection with me and him, all of it, just for you.”

Kirsten swallowed, unable to look away, unable to stop herself from asking, “And?”

Seth chuckled mirthlessly and looked away. “And Ryan didn’t even bat an eyelash, didn’t even so much as blink before he looked Dad right in the eyes,” he met her eyes again, “and he said, ‘I’d give my entire life for her.’”

She heard Julie’s sharply-drawn breath at the comment. Or was that her?

“Then what?” Julie asked, clearly forgetting her pledge to remain invisible for the duration of the conversation.

Seth pressed his lips together, elbows still on his thighs as he held his palms up in a shrug. “Then we left. Everything had been said that needed saying. I went down to the car, and... Dad stayed behind for a few seconds. I dunno what else he said to Ryan, but then we both got in the car and left. Then he had to meet with the hospital board, and I came here.”

Kirsten nodded slowly, absorbing everything her son had told her. After a moment, she looked up at him again. “I thought you weren’t coming back when you left me in the pool house this afternoon.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he replied. “I needed to blow off some steam.”

Gently, Julie asked, “Then why are you back now?”

“Because.” He answered Julie’s question, but kept his eyes on his mother. “Whether it’s twisted, or whether I’m cool with it or not...” As a side comment, he added sharply, “Which I’m not, by the way. Don’t know that I ever will be, and I can say for sure that Ryan and I won’t be buddy-buddy anymore...” Then, he seemed to come back to himself and digressed with a sigh. “But despite all that... if there’s a guy out there willing to die for you, you should at least know about it.”

She took that for what it was; it wasn’t a blessing by any means, but in Seth’s own unique way, it was him telling her that he still did value her happiness. “Thank you, Seth.”

He nodded silently and rose to his feet, hands once again on his hips in a thoughtful pose. He frowned, opened his mouth as if to say something... and then seemingly thought better of it, instead shaking his head and gesturing toward the house with his thumb. “I think there might be just a couple more things upstairs I left behind. I’m gonna go take a look and then head out.”

“Okay.” She hovered just a couple feet from him, suddenly at a loss for what to do. She knew in his current mood a hug wasn’t likely; he was going to need a long time to get over everything that had been thrown at him today.

But surprisingly, Seth stepped forward... a bit awkwardly... and wrapped his arms around her. Kirsten swallowed the sob that tried to creep up on her and closed her eyes to savor the moment. She knew it would be goodbye for a good long while.

After a moment, Seth mumbled into her shoulder, “I love you, Mom.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she smiled, patting his back. “I love you, too.”

Then Seth took his leave of them, giving Julie an awkward wave before heading out. Kirsten swallowed her emotion as she watched him leave, turning to find Julie dabbing at a stray tear.

“I, um... I should probably get home now, Kirsten,” she told her, clearing her throat to cover the fact that Seth’s goodbye had gotten her misty-eyed. “I have a sudden urge to hug my daughter.”

Kirsten smiled. “That’s fine. Thank you for staying for... moral support.”

Julie hugged her tight. “Anytime.” Pulling away, she held Kirsten by the upper arms, studying her. “What are you gonna do now?”

“Right now, I need to... think,” she replied. “I’m still on information overload from this morning.”

Julie nodded. “Right, gotcha.”

“So I guess I need to figure out how I feel, and...” She took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach as her eyes settled on something left behind in the back corner of the pool house -- Ryan’s suit of armor from Halloween.

“Then I think I need to go talk to Ryan.”

 

TBC


	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all the complexities and twists in her relationship with Ryan, it all boiled down to one very simple point: she needed him.

*****

Kirsten wasn’t sure how long she sat in the pool house trying to make head or tail of what she was feeling.

As soon as Julie had left, she had turned off the lights, curled up on the bed and tried to sort everything out. She thought about the first time she met Ryan; the butterflies that had assaulted her stomach the first time she waved at him and he gave her a hint of a smile.

She thought about the time they nearly collided in the kitchen just a few short days later; the inexplicable tension that kept them shooting furtive glances at each other until dinner. She thought about the way he defended her honor in juvy and the way it tugged at her heartstrings, and how she felt instinctively that she needed him in her life.

She thought about the way he held her the first time they said goodbye and how broken she had felt when he was gone; how, even before she knew about Seth’s departure, she had completely melted down in the pool house, taking the sheets off the bed where she now laid missing him.

She thought about all his conflict with her father and how fiercely protective of him she had been; how downright furious she had been at her father for passing judgement on this kid that had basically saved her from being an ice queen the rest of her life. How his soft declaration of love, combined with the potent stare they exchanged at her intervention, completely weakened her resolve and made her feel vulnerable again, whereas the alcohol once made her feel invincible.

She thought about the times he had come to visit her at Suriak and walked around the gardens with her, occasionally holding her hand when he saw it begin to shake with withdrawal, or placing his jacket around her shoulders when the need for alcohol became so intense it made her shiver.

She thought about the look on his face when she came home again, the brilliant smile on his face as his eyes held hers and he murmured softly, “Oh my God.” The way he made a beeline for her and wrapped her in an embrace, that familiar warmth settling around her.

She thought about the way he was there, just always _there_ , whether Sandy bailed on dinner or abandoned his post as King Arthur to work on the hospital. She thought about how protective he was of her, seemingly never wanting her to feel an ounce of hurt or disappointment, and doing his best to take it away if she did.

She thought about the safety and comfort she had felt in his arms that night under the pier as they slow-danced; not to mention, the tiny electric shocks she could practically see bouncing between them. She thought about the way his eyes would occasionally stray to her lips, and the way her lips seemed to tingle in answer.

And of course, she thought of his confession; of the mingling disappointment and understanding on his face when they’d been interrupted and she chose to run after her son. Finally, she thought of the way he sacrificed his own happiness, going so far as to remove himself from the picture when he thought that was best for everyone.

“Not for me,” she murmured aloud, repeating her whispered words when he had brushed past her. Him leaving wasn’t what was best for her.

The thought that hit her next startled her, but it felt no less genuine: _He_ was what was best for her.

Despite all the complexities and twists in her relationship with Ryan, it all boiled down to one very simple point: she needed him.

It was something she felt early on as she watched the guards in juvy drag him away from the fistfight he’d engaged in over her honor, and it hadn’t changed in three years.

But now the complication and the consequences had driven him away. What could she say to get him back?

An ‘I love you’ would be easy enough, she knew as much. But he already knew she loved him. Saying she was ‘in love’ with him would certainly draw him back, but Kirsten didn’t want to admit to something still so uncertain. Was that what the complication was? Was she in love with him? Or was she merely attracted to the side of him that always looked out for her? Was she just falling into the same trap her mother had of needing a strong, capable man to care for her?

The lights came on in the pool house once again and startled Kirsten, her heart getting stuck in her throat mid-gasp. She turned to face the door and met eyes with Ryan, his hand still lingering on the light switch.

“Kirsten?”

“Oh God,” she whispered, sitting up and wiping the tears that had begun to sneak their way down her face. Whatever she felt for him, she had to figure it out within the next few seconds or she would lose him for good.

Ryan assessed the sight of her on his bed, his eyes straying momentarily to the dried tear tracks on her face. “What are you doing here?”

She swallowed hard and scrambled to her feet despite the lingering anxiety that he might bolt with any sudden movement. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Ryan nodded, then sighed and ducked his gaze. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“What?”

“I should’ve stayed. It was stupid to just pack up and run.” He shrugged, coming fully inside the pool house and tossing his duffel bag aside. “I mean... what I said was huge, yeah. And I’m pretty sure it wrecked my relationship with Seth forever, but... I should never have just dropped that in your lap and then left you here by yourself.” He met her eyes. “It was wrong, and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Kirsten nodded without missing a beat. “Already have,” she told him, giving him a small smile.

He returned it, a bit hesitantly, and for a moment they just stood awkwardly, Ryan looking everywhere but at her while she did nothing but stare at him and try to figure out what her brain and her heart were telling her.

“So... what are you doing in here?” he asked again, quietly, as he raised his eyes to hers.

“I’ve been here since you left,” she told him, holding his gaze.

“Why?”

“I wish I knew,” she whispered, suddenly sad. Here was this kind, gentle, strong man that laid his heart on the line and sacrificed everything for her... and she still couldn’t figure out how she felt.

Ryan nodded, understanding on his face. “It’s pretty complicated.”

“It is,” she agreed, still searching him with her eyes, occasionally focusing on his lips. “And... in some ways, it’s been like that since you got here.”

He chuckled, though it was slightly grim as he muttered, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I don’t know what to do, Ryan.” She felt helpless, in a way, feeling so much and yet being completely incapable of putting it into words.

“It’s okay.” He ducked his head and they were quiet for a moment. Kirsten watched a small, soft smile quirk at his lips before he commented, “They came to see me, you know.”

“I know.”

He raised his eyes to hers, brows furrowed. “You do?”

“Seth stopped by not that long ago to tell me. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that he would--”

Ryan held up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay, I’m... I’m glad to have some closure with each of them.”

“What did he say to you?”

He raised his brows. “Seth?” Then he shrugged facially, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door frame. “Not much, he just--”

“No,” she interrupted, taking a couple steps forward as her heart beat a strange rhythm. “Sandy.”

“Oh.” His hands came out of his pockets as he folded them behind himself, resting them on the doorframe as he leaned back again.

“Seth said when he went down to the car, Sandy stayed up there with you a minute longer. What did he say to you?”

Ryan nodded, took a deep breath, and then told her everything; to the point that Kirsten could picture almost exactly how it happened.

_”You know you’ve got a lotta nerve falling for a man’s wife,” Sandy told him, Seth’s footfalls down the stairs outside still audible. “For your best friend’s mother.”_

_Ryan nodded, standing in the middle of his motel room with his arms crossed over himself. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t. Can’t control your feelings sometimes, I guess.”_

_Sandy shook his head, still staring him down. “Nope. Just your actions.”_

_“But look, I never once--”_

_Sandy held up his hand, cutting him off. His eyes closed a moment as he nodded, voice quiet as he said, “I know, kid. I know.”_

_For a moment they were silent, just looking at one another. Then, Sandy took a breath, glanced out the open door toward where Seth was waiting by the car, and then turned back. “She’s a strong woman, my Kirsten.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I always thought she needed someone to rule the kingdom with her. Be the King. For awhile, I tried to do that.”_

_Ryan just listened, watching as Sandy seemingly stared through the carpet, reliving his marriage. “But after awhile I realized... she doesn’t need that at all. She didn’t need a King. She’s a pretty self-sufficient Queen.” He looked up. “What she needs is a knight. Someone to look out for her and have her back at all times. Someone that can keep her from getting hurt. Or at least make her feel better when she does get hurt.” He shrugged. “That’s where I failed. I couldn’t be that for her.”_

_Ryan swallowed hard, his heart in his throat as he watched this man, who he once looked up to, confess to his failure._

_Sandy met his eyes again. “I’m not gonna tell you that this whole thing is fine by me, because it’s not.” He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice and telling him almost sternly, “All I’m gonna say is... I walked away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t repeat my mistake.”_

_Then he turned without another word and left Ryan to his thoughts._

 

TBC


	8. Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of her was practically shaking with the need to run to him, to throw her arms around him. The other part of her was terrified of what was transpiring here, and it was that part that kept her frozen in place.

*****

Kirsten found herself floored for what was likely the fourth time that day. “He said that?”

Ryan nodded, leaning against the door frame again.

She kept her eyes trained on him as he slipped his hands once more into his pockets, ducking his gaze. “And then... what? He just left?”

“Yeah. He went back down to the car, and I sat down to do some thinking.”

“About what?” She asked, following him with her eyes as he made his way over to the wicker chair and sat down.

“You, mostly.” He bent forward with his elbows on his thighs, looking up at her.

His blue eyes stared right through her and she felt her heart beating an odd rhythm again. Only this time, she paid attention to it rather than pushing it away as she’d done for the last three years.

“I thought about how I... failed you, in a way, leaving like I did.”

Kirsten just stared, unable to move, hardly able to breathe due to the swarm of butterflies in her stomach and her heart hammering in her chest. “You didn’t fail me,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I did.” Ryan clasped his hands in the space between his knees, rubbing his palms together slowly as he searched her eyes. “Kirsten, when you let me stay three years ago, I promised myself then that I would do everything in my power to always look out for you. To be there for you like you were for me when I needed someone the most.” He shrugged. “Maybe things didn’t start out great between us, but when you pulled me outta juvy... something shifted.”

His hands pressed into his knees and he stood up suddenly. Kirsten hoped the slight gasp of surprise wasn’t terribly audible, and she stayed rooted to the spot. Ryan didn’t come any closer, nor did she; they just stood several feet apart, eyes locked on one another.

“You became almost instantly one of the most important people in my life. And that hasn’t changed for three years. I don’t know what happened between when you watched them haul me away in a cop car and when you brought me back, but... I’m glad it did.”

She folded her arms across herself, shivering despite the warmth of the room as she closed her eyes and relived those first few days in an instant. “You got to me,” she murmured.

He furrowed his brows. “How?”

“That’s just the thing.” She opened her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know how you did it, or if you even did anything. All I know is that as soon as I saw you swing at that guy that had been cat-calling me... you got to me.” She shook her head, swallowing hard as she looked down at the floor. “It was the first time I felt this weird, knee-jerk instinct that I... needed you, somehow.”

Steeling herself and pushing away the last vestiges of her shivers, she looked up again and told him, “That was the first time anybody ever protected me. When that guy started to get up, I hadn’t even blinked and you were on him.” Chuckling breathily, she quipped, “First time I’d ever had a knight in shining armor, ready to throw himself in harm’s way for me.”

Looking up, she saw Ryan’s smile. Part of her was practically shaking with the need to run to him, to throw her arms around him. The other part of her was terrified of what was transpiring here, and it was that part that kept her frozen in place. “You did it without a thought, without even hesitating. And you’ve been doing it ever since.”

Without breaking gaze, Ryan told her quietly, “And that’s why I failed you today.” He took a step forward and Kirsten fought not to jump at the motion. “For three years, I’ve been doing everything I can to be there for you. To keep you from getting hurt. But today? I dumped all of that stuff in your lap and then abandoned you.” He huffed without mirth. “Some knight.”

“But... if you think about it...” She allowed herself to take a step forward, and Ryan mirrored her, the two of them separated by just a few feet now. “You did that to protect me, too.” She held his gaze. “You saw how Seth reacted when he overheard you and you knew things would go badly. So you removed yourself from the picture to keep me from getting hurt.”

“And me, a little bit,” he admitted, dipping his head with a shy smile.

“What?”

Ryan took a breath, folded his arms across his chest as if readying himself for confrontation and looked up at her. “Kirsten, you’re the only person that can hurt me.”

That gave her pause; she frowned, uncertain whether or not that comment was meant to sting. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that out of everyone in my life, you’re the one person that has the power to really make me hurt.” Off what she was certain was a confused look, he continued. “All of my mom’s craziness, her issues with alcohol and her less-than-stellar boyfriends... that was always really disappointing. But it never really hurt. Even her leaving me with you guys didn’t hurt, because I knew she was doing it to give me my best shot.”

He shrugged. “All my stuff with Marissa? That was frustrating for sure. And when we finally broke things off it was a huge change, but it didn’t hurt. Trey coming back, messing things up and then leaving again... was rough.” He made a face. “Didn’t hurt, though.” After a beat, his voice seemed to soften. “But... with you? Things hurt.”

Kirsten felt a lump in her throat but never broke gaze with Ryan as he went on. “The first time you threw me out, and wouldn’t even look me in the eye when I left, it hurt. And at your intervention, when you told me not to say a word because you let me into this house... that hurt, even though I understood. Those times when you were at Suriak and we weren’t allowed to see you, it hurt. And then today... that look in your eyes before you ran after Seth... that hurt too.”

She swallowed hard, voice emerging as nothing but a whisper. “Ryan...”

He stepped closer, the two of them almost toe-to-toe now. Kirsten didn’t know whether to collapse against him or run for the door. “That’s how I know this is real, Kirsten,” he told her strongly, softly. His eyes were a sharp blue now; they drilled into her, hammering his point home. “What I feel for you hurts like hell, so it’s gotta be real. And that’s part of the reason I left.”

She searched his eyes back and forth, unable to move yet she felt as if she were drifting just a little closer. “Then why did you come back?”

“Because Sandy was right.” He swallowed, still staring into her eyes as he reached for her hands. “I’m not gonna repeat his mistakes and walk away from the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Her heart leapt up into her throat again, and she was surprised to feel the sting of tears in her eyes. Ryan gripped her hands a little tighter and took one more step in. “And I don’t care how much this hurts me. It’s not about me. It’s about _you_. You may not need a king, Guinevere,” he smirked, “but you need someone around that’s gonna put you first for once. I don’t care if you never feel an ounce of anything for me, I’m gonna keep being your knight.”

Kirsten drew in a shaking breath, her eyes on his lips while his focused on her face. One of his hands left hers to move her hair from her face. “And it’s not because I think you need to be looked after or because I think you can’t fend for yourself--”

Her kiss cut him off.

She hadn’t planned it by any means; it was instinctive and knee-jerk and she felt a need to kiss him so deep that it made her ache. The shock riddled him immediately and she felt him tense up, his lips just barely responding before he broke away.

One hand cupped her face as his surprised gaze searched her. Nothing was said out loud; they conversed with their eyes. Kirsten smiled just slightly as she watched the realization dawn on his face -- she _did_ feel something for him. He wasn’t alone in feeling that bond, that reflexive need and instantaneous attraction.

Ryan exhaled a smile, a bit of relief mingled with the sigh. Then he pulled her in again and kissed her fully, and it was Kirsten’s turn to feel a shock to the system.

His lips were a livewire, sending sparks traveling through her veins. She could practically feel the ultraviolet waves of static electricity within herself, gathering where his hands rested -- one on her face and the other just above the curve of her waist. Her fingers clenched, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt and the short hair at the nape of his neck.

They breathed into each other as the kiss intensified; his lips bruised hers and she felt the ground tilting -- they were moving. He gathered her tight against him as they moved around the room and Kirsten wrapped her arms completely around his neck. Her cry of surprise was muffled against his mouth as her back hit the wall, but that first kiss still hadn’t broken.

Ryan was everywhere, in all five senses; taste, touch, scent, sound, and sight -- though her eyes were closed, she still saw him. His hands were alternately on her hips and in her hair and Kirsten couldn’t bring herself to care about clothing getting rumpled or hair knotting in tangles.

But soon, he had stolen all her breath. And so they broke for air, their foreheads keeping the connection.

“I didn’t want you to stop,” she heard herself whisper, the admission surprising her somewhat.

Ryan chuckled breathlessly against her lips, kissing her softly. “And believe me, I didn’t want to stop. But... I think we should.”

He pulled back and searched her eyes, and a glimmer of common sense returned. It had been a rather tumultuous day; perhaps he had a point. Though her body cried out for more, her head was still spinning with all the day’s revelations. “I think you’re right,” she murmured. Wryly, she quipped, “It’s been three years, I guess. What’s one more night?”

Ryan laughed at that; a full, joyous laugh complete with a bright smile. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he pulled her in, kissing her temple and then her hair as he held her. “You should get some sleep.”

“So should you.” She closed her eyes and allowed herself to cling to him; her Lancelot, her gallant knight. Then, as she glimpsed over her day without him, she asked, “Will you be here when I wake up?”

He nodded without hesitation, his hands sliding over her back. “Of course I will.”

So Kirsten sighed her relief and melted against him, comforted by his stalwart presence despite the few bumps they’d traveled over during the course of their day. “You know I love you... right?”

She felt his smile without seeing it. “Yeah, I do.” Pulling back, he must have seen the conflict in her eyes, for he quickly reassured her, “Everything else will fall into place, Guinevere.”

She chuckled. “Thanks... Lancelot.”

“Do you know how the story ends?” he asked.

Kirsten nodded; she pulled back and searched his blue eyes. Their medieval counterparts’ ending was less than happy, consistently fraught with turmoil, betrayal and tragedy.

“Yes, I know how the story ends,” she answered, taking Ryan’s proffered hand.

He led her silently to the bed and she laid down fully clothed; he slid in beside her and wrapped her in a cocoon of comfort, familiarity and adoration. Though their ending wouldn’t be quite so untimely, Kirsten also knew their chance for true happiness was slim. Their connection was bone-deep and powerful, yes, but the deck had been stacked against them.

So she clung to him and begged, “Lie to me anyway -- how does the story end?”

And Ryan kissed her forehead and fibbed, “Lancelot and Guinevere lived happily ever after,” as he turned out the light.

 

FIN


End file.
